You Could Have it Better
by Hey Lady Hey
Summary: After Johnny’s breakup with Lola, Peanut’s there to help Johnny back to his feet. JohnnyxPeanut Chapter 7 is now up
1. Girl's All Trouble

**Title:** You Could Have it Better  
**Chapter 1: **Girl's all Trouble  
**Summary:** After Johnny's breakup with Lola, Peanut's there to help Johnny back to his feet.(JohnnyxPeanut)  
**Note: **Awesome Airenko beta'd this for me. She has a never-ending stream of patience, because I think the apocalypse may come before I can get a grasp of then/than.

----

He snickered under his breath, enjoying the feel of soft flesh under his fist. One punch, two punch, they all connected, all were followed by a cry of pain. There was no better way to get out his frustrations then to beat the living shit out of a snot nosed rich kid. Especially one of the easy ones, like Gord Vendrome, or Parker Ogilvie. 

"Stop it-!" Gord gasped, kicking out with his feet. Norton and Peanut grabbed his arms tighter, making sure that if the pain of the punches didn't stop his struggling, the painful twisting would. His yelling dwelled down into a whine, the dim lights from outside the alleyway illuminating his face.

"Shaddup, you stupid preppy!" Johnny snarled. Gord's shopping bags were at the ground around their feet, ridiculously expensive clothes spread out on the dirty ground. Gord whimpered, then let out a half-hearted choke as Johnny buried another one of his fists into Gord's stomach. The poor prep burst into tears from the pain, and Johnny straightened himself, his face smug.

"Go ahead," He looked up at Norton and Peanut, nodding and gesturing towards Gord, "Drop 'im. He's not even worth the effort anymore."

They both dropped him to the ground, taking a step back as Gord fell to his hands and knees. Laughter filled the small alleyway as Gord whimpered and started to meekly collect his fallen bags and clothes. Norton struck out with his foot, kicking one of the bags away. It skittered across the rough ground, belts and a pair of shoes falling out.

"H-hey!" Gord protested, his face paling considerably when he realized what he just said. Norton frowned, grabbing the preppie's collar and hoisting him up without much considerable effort. The size of Norton's hand was about the size of Gord's whole head. Gord cowered, and Norton shook him roughly.

"What?" He yelled. "You got somethin' against me playing a little kickball with your fancy clothes? They too _expensive_ for me to kick around, huh?" Gord whimpered as Norton shook him again.

Peanut laughed as he plucked one of the shirts from the bag Norton had kicked, holding it up to himself. "_Oh_, look at this!" He held it up. It was a blue sweater, the neckline plunged low and the collar had a trim of lace on it. Peanut's eyes glittered, like he found the jackpot, and when Johnny laughed his grin grew wide. "What the hell is this, Gord? Ya into that sort of thing, the dressin' up like girls?"

"Tranny?" Norton added, and all three greasers started laughing. Norton dropped Gord, who got to his feet and took a few wary steps away like a spooked cat. They made no move to grab him again, so he took a few steps back. He collected a few of his bags, watching the greasers closely.

"Oh, wait, Gord, I ain't finished with the tour." Peanut grabbed something else from the bag. Before he pulled the whole article out, they all knew what it was, and everybody burst into laughter, save Gord. He was standing a few feet away from Peanut, eyeing his last bag and the skirt that Peanut had pulled out. Peanut waved the blue-checkered skirt at Gord. It was much too short that anyone half-decent would wear. "Jesus, this is pretty sad. A skirt?" Peanut held it up to himself, wiggling his hips.

Norton and Johnny erupted into laughter. Johnny let out a whistle. "Lookin' nice, Peanut!" Johnny didn't notice the way that Peanut blushed and dropped the skirt like it was on fire, though Norton did, and he laughed even harder. Gord snatched it before it hit the ground, grabbing it and clutching it to his chest.

Johnny narrowed his eyes, taking a threatening step forward. "So, you a real trans, Gord? How much do y'cost- wait! Why am I asking you?" He held out his arms, looking over to his fellow cronies before flashing Gord a smug smile. "All I have to do is ask Derby and Bif, right? Bet they can recite your prices by heart!" The three greasers started to laugh again, and Gord's face turned red.

"They're not mine!" Gord suddenly burst out. He felt his knees shake, and he took in a small breath, trying not to whimper, "They're not mine…"

Johnny frowned, taking a threatening step forward. If he was any other person, he would have been gone by now, but his last bag of Aquaberry was at Peanut's feet. Not for all the gold in the world would he abandon a perfectly good bag of fashionable clothes. Gord clutched the three large bags in his hands tighter to his chest, looking up at Johnny fearfully. "Then who's are they, fairy?"

Peanut had started to rummage through the bag, and he let out a snort as he pulled something out. "Alright, no matter what you say, we're not believing you now." Peanut drawled, pulling out a pair of frilly girl's panties. He stretched them, laughing as he put them on his head. Johnny's eyes were still intently glued onto Gord.

Gord gripped his bags. "Larry! Stop it! Those are Lola's!" Right when he said it, he _knew_ he had said too much, and his knees really wobbled as everyone fell silent.

"_Whose_ are those, Gord?" Johnny snarled, clutching his fists.

Gord swallowed thickly. "L-lola's-"

Johnny lunged forward. "You're gonna get it, trust-fund fairy-!" Gord let out an indignant shriek, dropping all of his bags and running like the devil himself was on his heels. Though, that was the case, as Johnny yelled, chasing after him. Peanut let out a surprised cry, rushing after his boss, Norton following on his heels.

---

Johnny fumbled with his lighter, flicking it on. His hands were shaking with anger, and it fell from his hands, the flame licking his thumb. He cursed, kicking the lighter across the room. It bounced off the wall, rolling under a pile of dirty clothes.

There was the sound of a door opening, and then closing very loudly. "Jooooohnnny!" Lola called from the front door, heels clicking against the old wood. It didn't take long before his promiscuous girlfriend showed her face, peeking through the open door into Johnny's room. She frowned. "Just 'cause these tenements are run down, doesn't mean you have to be a pig."

"Not now, Lola," Johnny grumbled. Lola smiled, taking a step into Johnny's cluttered room. On each of her arms were two shopping bags, a cursive 'A' stamped on the side. She placed them down, sashaying up behind Johnny and sliding her petite arms around his waist.

"Aw, Johnny. What's wrong?"

Johnny turned his head, glaring over at the bags. "Got those from Gord, didn't you?"

Lola pouted, standing on her tiptoes to place a small kiss on Johnny's lips. His angry face faltered. "No, 'course not, Johnny…"

"He told me." Johnny said gruffly, trying to work up the strength it took to pull away from those warm arms. Instead, he just stood there, letting her pluck the unlit cigarette from his hands. "Gord told me that he buys you stuff."

"How'd you find that out?" She asked curiously, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a lighter. She lit it, taking in a small, dainty puff.

Johnny turned around, suddenly taking the cigarette back and taking a long drag. "I cornered him down… he gave me the information."

Lola smiled, slapping Johnny's chest playfully. "Oh, Johnny, look at you! All big and tough… ooh, what a bad boy…" She leaned up onto her tiptoes, taking the cigarette from Johnny's lips and taking a puff. Johnny smirked as the hand on his chest clutched at his shirt. "You know how much I like bad boys, Johnny…" She whispered, the cancer stick dangling from between her lips.

Johnny leaned down, wrapping his arms around her and pulling his girlfriend close. She blushed and let out a feminine giggle, letting him take the cigarette back. "I'll be your bad boy, Lola…"

"Hey, boss!"

Johnny looked over at Peanut, who was standing in the doorway. Peanut coughed, running a hand nervously through his hair. "I, uhm, got those bags Gord left." He clutched a slightly ripped bag, messily over-stuffed with the clothes they had nabbed from Gord. Johnny's eyes narrowed, and Peanut gently placed the bag in the room, smiling sheepishly.

Lola rolled her eyes. Peanut gave Johnny a meek wave. "S-sorry." He mumbled, quickly walking away.

Johnny suddenly pulled away from Lola. She frowned, hands on her hips. "Aw, c'mon, you lost the mood already just 'cause _Larry_ decided to bother us?"

Johnny almost wished he hadn't. Almost. He took in a puff of his cigarette, staring at the bag. "Like I was sayin', about Gord…"

Lola scoffed, rolling her eyes. "So he buys me some things! Big deal!"

"It is a big deal! Think about what people might say: 'Johnny Vincent can't take care of his girlfriend, Johnny Vincent needs someone else to buy the duds for his queen.' People will think I'm a shmuck." Johnny frowned, taking a step forward. Lola held her own, taking a forceful step forward that sent Johnny a step back.

"You, Johnny Vincent, can't tell me what to do!" She snapped, taking another step forward. Johnny took a stumbling step back, holding out his hands.

"Hey, Lola, honey, I was just-"

"And you know _what_?" She snapped, pushing a manicured finger into Johnny's chest. "If I wanna get some new clothes, does it matter _who_ buys them for me? No, 'cause no matter the buyer, they're still looking the same on me."

Johnny frowned. "But those are the preppies, Lola! Those damn trust-fund fairies. Aw, you know he's not doing this stuff for you because he thinks you're a nice gal; he's using you!" His eyes narrowed, "Probably to get at me, tryin' to crawl under the skin of Johnny Vincent, that asshole-"

"Johnny!" Lola's voice snapped him out of his dark mumbling. She frowned. "Look, it don't matter now, right? I've got my clothes, I'm going to wear them." She turned around, picking up all of her bags. Johnny frowned.

"Since when do you wear Aquaberry anyway?"

Lola batted her eyelashes. "When I go out to nice places, Johnny-dear, I can't be wearin' plain old clothes." She sashayed out, leaving Johnny standing there, smoking away.

What kind of nice places were Lola going to without him? He closed his eyes, grumbling obscenities to himself.

---

You say her name, and people always have something to say back. She wasn't one of those people whose name is said and you get back an arched eyebrow and a _'Who?'_ Everybody knew Lola Lombardi: Slut, tramp, good lay, bad disease, Queen of the Greasers, King of Johnny's heart. People's views are always in a different shade when it comes to Lola, but it's always directed in one direction- the school whore. You may think she's a good whore, you may think she's a bad whore, but nonetheless, Lola Lombardi was a whore.

Lola. Lola, Lola, Lola… Peanut had more then his fill on his opinion about Lola Lombardi. She was manipulative and greedy, promiscuous and flirtatious, heart breaking and insincere. Peanut didn't care for Lola at all, but by how he acted, nobody could ever tell that Peanut had one ill thought in him against Lola. He always complemented her, gave her money when she was going on a date with Johnny, helped her cheat on the English exam.

None of it was for her. It was all for Johnny. If Lola was happy, Johnny was usually happy, and that's all that mattered. Even though he grinded his teeth each and every time Johnny prattled on about that manipulative bitch, he would smile and comment about how lucky he was to have such a girl. And Johnny would nod and smile.

If Peanut knew he could, he would tell Johnny to forget about Lola. She was all heat-break and false promises. Anybody was better then Lola. (_He_ was better then Lola.)

Peanut knew he couldn't give Johnny all he wanted like she could. He envied Lola, perfect in his Johnny's eyes despite her obvious faults. Peanut's faults were much more noticeable: He was short, had greasy hair even without products, and had the questionable name of _Peanut_. For a greaser, he could be shy, and he had horrible self-esteem. But he was kind, giving, and loyal to the point of obsessive… Lola was his opposite, and Lola got the guy.

He tried to bury all of those feelings. It wasn't right for him to dig dudes, anyway. How tough was a guy who took it in the ass? Not very tough. (Well, except Bif, but Bif was a giant of a prep and could probably beat Peanut in a miniskirt and pumps.) He didn't want to be one of those fairies like Gord, or that weird perverted bully with more acne then a Proactiv commercial. Besides, all of the guys would be weirded out if they found out that he was gay. It would be horrible.

So Peanut buried his feelings. It wasn't that hard. He was entirely devoted to his best friend, and as second-in-command nobody really questioned his obsession. It was for the good of the clique, for the good of Johnny…

Peanut smoked at his cigarette, trying to calm his nerves. Thinking about Lola and Johnny- _especially_ Lola and Johnny together- always stressed him out. He ran a hand through his hair, watching as some of the employees of the pool hall placed new signs out front; nice wooden ones with the time and price of drinks.

Peanut grinned, dropping his cig and stomping it out with his heel. He could for some sign smashing right about now…

---

"What would you like me to write on the card, young man?" The shopkeeper asked, his glasses sliding down his nose.

Johnny leaned against the counter, looking at the bouquet of flowers before back down at the cash in his hand, placing the right amount on the counter. " 'To Lola, my queen.'"

The shopkeeper nodded, the fountain pen scratching against the small card as he wrote out the message in the fanciest cursive he could muster. He put the small card in the bouquet, taking the money from the counter and handing Johnny the flowers. "There you go, fella. You're going to make her one happy girl with these."

"I hope so…" Johnny murmured, pressing his face into the flowers and taking in a deep sniff. He wasn't a flower specialist- they all smelled the same, and they all held bees- he thought these had looked the prettiest. He gave the shopkeeper a halfhearted wave, turning and exiting Yum Yum Market with his flowers clutched tight to his chest.

He sighed to himself. Lola Lombardi. What a doll. _'I hope she likes these…' _He thought, smiling down at the flowers. It would be their anniversary soon- two straight years of serious dating. Their relationship was mostly flawless in his eyes- and how couldn't it be, with Lola as his girlfriend? She was perfect. They did have conflicts every once and awhile, but they all seemed to fade away when he met her eyes, her warm embrace…

He let out another lovesick sigh, smiling. Yeah, everything was pretty much perfect. He was one lucky guy.

"Hey, boss!" Johnny woke up from his thoughts, looking over at Peanut who was sitting on some steps smoking a cig. He trotted over to him, a bat slung over his shoulder. "Wanna go smash some stuff?" He thumbed back towards where the Pool Hall's new signs had been reduced to splinters, smiling brightly.

Johnny grinned. "Sorry, Peanut, not right now," Peanut noticed the flowers clasped in Johnny's hand, and his face fell. The wrong name was on the tiny card tucked between the petals. "I gotta go give this to Lola."

Peanut shifted, faking a smile and looking at his feet. "That's good…!" He looked away, his enthusiasm disappearing. "Uh, look, you have good luck with that. I bet she'll like 'em." The bat bounced idly in his hands, and he looked over his shoulder.

Johnny smiled, turning. "See you soon, then!"

Peanut flashed him a smile, before looking at his feet so that his frown wasn't apparent. "See ya…"

Johnny gave him a half-wave, going on his way towards the tenements. Speaking of great people in his life, right under Lola was Larry Romano… or, Peanut, as everyone liked to call him. His best buddy, right hand man, the only guy who knew the secret gel he used to get his hair perfect; Peanut was anything a guy could ask for in a best friend.

He strolled up to the door of the tenements, pushing it open and closing it behind him. They were almost never locked. People around here were all dirt poor anyway, and any thief who would try to pull something in these parts would get little for their troubles and more then likely be killed for it later.

He looked around. Nobody seemed to be here at the moment; everyone was probably off studying for finals, or just enjoying the nice weather. Johnny looked down at his flowers, taking a few steps into the tenements, easily side-stepping a rat.

"Lola?" He called. Nothing. "Damn it, she must be…"

And then a small sound caught his ear, and he turned towards the hallway. It seemed like somebody was talking… And it was coming from his room. Curious, and still carrying his flowers, he walked carefully down the hallway, the voices becoming clearer.

His whole face brightened. That voice was clearly feminine, and it was coming from his room. Lola was waiting for him, even after that little argument they had over clothing… _'What a doll.'_ He grinned, straightening his jacket and smoothing back his hair before pushing through the door.

The first thing that he noticed was the stifling heat in the room, like a summer day with all the windows locked shut. The second was the smell of sex and sweat, a heady smell that masked everything else and would stick itself into his senses for a while. The third, and most important, was that there were two people fucking each other senseless on his bed.

The bouquet of flowers dropped from his hand, petals falling across the floor, colliding with the clothing that was strewn around. The man looked up, yelping in surprise. Lola looked over, her eyes going wide. Johnny couldn't _think_. The heat and the stench and the _sight_ got to his head, and all he could do was stare at the two wide-eyed, who had conveniently paused mid-thrust to just show off to Johnny what they had been doing on his bed.

Who was that man…? Oh. Yes. Jerry, one of the townie kids who had dropped out a year or so ago. His face was absolutely pale, and he was still bent over Lola, holding her legs around his waist, his dick still buried halfway in her. "I… I…"

Lola frowned, leaning up and smacking the lean townie in the chest. "Get off, you brute!"

Jerry pulled out quickly, still eyeing Johnny, who was just staring with blank eyes. Lola rolled her eyes, turning away from Jerry and grabbing her underwear and bra from the floor in a rush, starting to tug them on quickly. Jerry pulled the condom off that he was using, throwing it into a nearby trashcan. It made a slightly wet thud, and Johnny flicked back to life.

His head jerked slightly, and Johnny very literally roared to life. He clenched his fists, stalking forward. "What the _fuck_ are you doin', you fuckin' cock sucker?!" Johnny yelled. Jerry paled, quickly pulling his boxers on with one hand and holding up the other towards Johnny.

"Hey, I'm really sorry man, I didn't know-"

"For fuck's sake, you didn't know! Bullshit!" Johnny lunged for him, but he dodged out of the way, ducking down to grab his pants and shirt. Johnny was so animated, so intent of landing a punch he was flailing around wildly. One hit struck Jerry in the shoulder, and the townie snarled in pain, backing up. "Bullshit! Everyone knows… everyone knows that Lola is mine! Johnny Vincent's!"

"Settle down, greaser!" Jerry shouted, backing up towards the door. Johnny lunged, and Lola shrieked as he brought the townie down to the hard floor.

"Johnny!" Lola squeaked, only in her underwear as Johnny grappled with Jerry. "Johnny, stop that!"

Johnny growled, holding down Jerry's arm. He punched him in the jaw, and he howled, kicking up. Johnny cried out when his toe connected with his crotch, rolling off of Jerry in pain. The townie scrambled to his feet, fleeing towards the door. "You're going to regret this, you crazy bastard!" He called after Johnny.

"I'll get you mother fucker!" Johnny howled, his voice cracking slightly as he gripped his sore groin. He winced, rolling onto his side. No, he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. He let out a half-hearted groan, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

Lola walked from the bed, hooking her bra back on and pulling on a shirt. "Look, Johnny…" She paused, struggling for words. Johnny grimaced, sitting up and glaring over at her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He snapped. Lola looked over at him, confused. "You… you tramp! You just _fucked _him." She frowned at him, placing a hand on her hip. Was he… yelling at her? Her eyes narrowed. "You… you fucked him! In my bed, Jesus Christ, in my fucking bed!"

"It's not my fault, Johnny…"

Johnny's eyes widened. He suddenly understood. That townie… he had come in! And forced her! Of course! He started to stagger to his feet, his groin throbbing in pain. "That fucker, he… ooh, I'm going to kill him, kill him for hurtin' my Lola!"

She held out her hands. "Johnny, no!" He stopped, looking over at her with a blank expression. She frowned, sighing and placing her hands on her hips. "He didn't rape me."

"Then…" Johnny said slowly, blinking. "That means…?"

"Yeah," She shrugged, looking away from him. "I did him." Her voice was so blunt and casual.

Johnny's face contorted, eyes bugging in shock. "You _what_!"

"Look, Johnny," She took a step forward, placing her hands on his broad chest. "I wasn't expectin' you to be home so soon. Things got kinda… carried away…" She trailed off, looking away, her big brown eyes innocently wide.

Johnny made a disgusting noise in the back of his throat, turning his head and pulling away from her touch. "Wasn't… expecting me?! What… what do you…"

"Oh, Johnny, don't be like that. I'm sorry, sugar. C'mere," She placed her hands on her hips, smiling and winking. "You know I didn't mean anything. You're my one an' only, Johnny."

Johnny's face suddenly mellowed; her words were liquid drugs, scattering all of the thoughts in his head. "… He didn't mean anything, did he?" He asked quietly, taking a step forward.

"Course not, Johnny!" Lola smiled. (It only meant something after they had done it more then five times; this was only the third.) She walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him and leaning up to kiss him. She tasted like ash and mint. Johnny frowned, nearly pushing her off, but she leaned up and whispered into his ear before he could: "I love you, Johnny."

He melted, smiling like the sad sappy sucker he was. "Love you too, Lola…" He mumbled, being instantly silenced by one of her kisses. Her hand seductively trailed from his waist to his belt, hooking her fingers under the hem of his pants and nudging him back.

Johnny's held Lola's face, kissing her tenderly, pulling away to trail kisses down her neck. She crooned happily. "Oh, Johnny, you're such a man…"

"Yeah," He said gruffly, his hands gripping her small waist. He started to guide her to his bed, caught up in the kisses and the warm hand that had pushed up his shirt. "Yeah, I am." He growled, her neck warm under his lips.

"Oooh, yes, you are, Johnny." Lola purred, suddenly turning Johnny around so that he was the one being backed up toward the bed. She pulled slightly away, reaching back towards the hook in her bra. "Just sit down, and let me give you a show…"

Johnny grinned, kissing her lightly before flopping back on the bare mattress. A look of shock crossed his face as something _vibrated _under him, and he flung himself off in fear. "What the fuck?!" He stared, the mattress shaking slightly.

Lola's face paled, and she raised her hand to her mouth. "Johnny, ah, don't-"

Johnny glared at the mattress, pushing it up and roughly grabbing whatever it was. When he saw what he had grabbed, he yelled and dropped it. "Jesus, Lola, you…" It was a _dildo_. A _used_ dildo, slick with some sort of nasty liquid he didn't even want to think about. He furiously wiped his hands on the wooden floor, looking disgusted and stumbling to his feet.

"Johnny, it, it…"

He shook his head. "Look, just… " He couldn't keep the anger and disgust from his voice, and he couldn't even bare to look at Lola. He scowled, turning his back and walking towards the door. "Get changed and get out." He finished tensely, stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking out.

"Johnny!" Lola called, but he didn't turn around, weaving through the tenements. What the hell was wrong with him? He had nearly made out with his girlfriend after seeing her openly cheat on him, in his own bed!

Johnny grimaced. _'That dirty slut..! She… she…' _He couldn't even think straight. Had she done this before? Why would Lola do this to him?

"Johnny!" She was so light he hadn't heard her footsteps, and the arms that spun him around were warm. Lola pouted at him. "Look, baby, I told you I was sorry."

Johnny felt his heart flicker. But his brain beat the overwhelming emotion back, and he turned his head, pushing her off. "No! You've… you've done things like this before, Lola, an'… an' this is the last straw!"

Lola stumbled backward, wide-eyed. Johnny continued, not letting her get in a protest; he knew he would give in if she did. "You can't _do _things like that and just expect everything to be all instantly good again! It's not right!"

Lola pursed her lips. "What are you sayin', Johnny? That you want to break up with me?"

Johnny stared at his shoes, and then looked up, nodding fiercely. "Yeah! That's what I'm saying." Expecting waterworks, pleads and apologies in three, two, one-

"Fine."

Johnny's face fell. "What?"

Lola shrugged, hands on hips. "Fine. We're through." She turned around, pants clinging to her hips as she strutted off to grab the rest of her clothes that were left in Johnny's room. Johnny gaped at her, his heart crackling and shattering into tiny pieces.

He hadn't really expected that.

---

Sorry if this is starting out a little slow. This will pick up pace pretty quickly. Of course, reviews keep me writing, and favorite's are just the cat's meow.


	2. Drinking Buddies

Chapter 2

---

Johnny growled, throwing a hard punch towards the wall. The plaster dented under his force, and he yelled at it, throwing punch after punch into the old walls. "Fucking… stupid… fucking stupid _townie!" _Johnny snarled, kicking at the wall. He turned away, still fuming.

He eyed his mattress. It was ruined now, forever marked because those two decided to take up his room as a great place to procreate in. He kicked it angrily, the dildo rolling across the floor. He made a face. "God damnit, Lola, you stupid whore…"

He could hear the sound of the doors opening from the front, and Johnny frowned. Everybody had probably heard by now; things concerning Lola were always known by the greasers as soon as they happened, and it would only take a few days until the rest of the school knew about the messy breakup, about stupid Johnny Vincent finally catching Lola in the act. All of them would _laugh_ at him, at how he got duped yet again.

"Hey, Johnny, so how was your…" Peanut called, his voice ringing through the tenements as he trotted towards Johnny's room. He skidded to a stop at his doorway, his eyes immediately falling to the broken flowers on the ground. Johnny gave him a murderous glare. "Day…"

"What do you think?" he snapped bitterly, picking up the used dildo, and chucking it into the trashcan. Peanut made a face, walking into Johnny's room. It was a mess, and he stepped carefully over the ruined flowers and the pieces of clothing left by Jerry. Johnny bent down, grabbing a pair of socks, and throwing it in the dustbin.

"Hey, boss, it's alright…" Peanut said soothingly, coming up behind him, and placing a firm hand on Johnny's shoulder. He whirled around, knocking his hand away, and taking a sudden step forward. Their chests bumped together, and Peanut looked up at Johnny with wide eyes.

"Don't try 'n placate me, Larry, you know as well as I do that she's a bitch!" he snarled, clutching fists at his side. Peanut swallowed nervously, but didn't back away. "A fuckin' succubus! A she-devil!" he raged, "My Lola, my Lola's a _slut_, Peanut, a good for nothin' slut!" He grinded his teeth together, throwing his hands up into the air. Peanut frowned, sticking out a tentative hand to touch his shoulder; to just calm him down, but Johnny flinched, and pulled away before Peanut's fingertips brushed anything tangible. Johnny turned around, stomping away, and pushing his fingers into his hair. Peanut stared at his feet as Johnny grumbled to himself, his gelled hair giving way to his fingers, making a right mess of himself.

Peanut took a step forward, and the shoe against the worn floor made the loudest sound in the world. "Don't," Johnny's voice was harsh and gravelly, gripping his hair even tighter, "_Don't_."

"Johnny…"

"I can't believe her… Foolin' Johnny Vincent. Who the hell does she think she is, cheatin' on me like this?" Johnny murmured in disbelief, shaking his head slowly.

Peanut frowned. He acted like the wool had been pulled over his eyes. How could he not have seen the obvious? The nights when she suddenly disappeared, and sneaked back into the tenements at three, stinking like a bar and cheap cologne; or the days she left and came back with bags filled with clothes; or how her grades magically went up the same day Earnest didn't sneak into the adult shop to buy some more Playboys.

Johnny's shoulders shook slightly. Oh, he knew. He always knew, but his ignorance was spread far and thick over his vision. It didn't happen to work when her cheating was blatantly in front of him, watching someone fuck her like a common prostitute in his own bed. A shame. He wished it did, that he could forget what he had seen, but you can't just _unsee_ things.

Peanut sighed, hanging his head. "It ain't your fault. You just… you just…" Picked the wrong person.

"Not my fault! I must have done something… somethin' to make her do this to me." Johnny clutched at his hair, pawing through his knotted locks in frustration. He was wracking his brain for the answer, that precious answer that would make the light bulb flicker on. And then he'd know his wrong, and could amend it; Lola would be his again. "What'd I do wrong? What'd I do...?"

Peanut shook his head. He wanted to run over and just hug him, but… Johnny's voice was cracking, and that scared him. Johnny had a reputation of going a little overboard when Lola did things to him. Johnny was a madman when he was broken up inside. "You didn't do nothin' wrong, Johnny! You've always been a good boyfriend to Lola!"

"In my bed, Larry, Jesus… she did it in my bed. I must've done something, something to deserve this…" he groaned, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. "She loves me, I know she wouldn't… without a reason…"

Peanut walked slowly towards Johnny, his hands held out. It was like he was cornering a frightened animal; Johnny didn't know he was next to him until his arms were wrapped around his chest. Johnny flinched, growling and struggling, "Get offa me!" and Peanut held firm, gripping tightly to Johnny. It didn't take long. When he couldn't even manage to wrench his arms from Peanut's embrace, he snarled in frustration, then a whimper of defeat. Utter defeat. Peanut adjusted his arms around Johnny, trying to awkwardly make it a friendly embrace and not a more deviate one.

Johnny didn't notice. He never noticed. His ignorance ran in more ways than one. "Why? I love her, Larry. I do everything I can for her." Peanut's hug tightened slightly, and Johnny let out a long-winded sigh.

"She screwed him, in my bed." Johnny's eyes suddenly softened, and he shook his head sadly. "Funny, she always said, 'I'm waitin', Johnny, we can't do _that_.' Lying bitch," he snorted, closing his eyes tightly.

Peanut's eyes widened, his grip around Johnny loosening. "She never…?"

"No," Johnny interrupted bitterly. "Tease and tease, but no, we never fucked. Not once."

Peanut pulled away. "Then why the hell did you stay with her?" he cried, his face immediately going pale from his outburst. Johnny's eyes went wide, and he turned around, harshly putting a finger against Peanut's chest.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Larry?" Johnny asked darkly, his eyes glinting. Peanut put up his hands, chewing his lip.

"H-hey, all I meant… uhm… I didn't mean to say that-"

Johnny pushed Peanut's shoulder, making him stumble back. "Then what the fuck did that mean, Peanut? What, you think Lola was only good for a fuck?!" he shouted furiously.

Peanut flinched. "Well…" Johnny glared at him, and he glared back, taking a sudden step forward. "Well, yeah! That's all she ever did! She went around with other guys all the time, Johnny, you saw her! She would sneak out in the middle of the night, or she'd go out for a long time, and come back with clothes an' shit!"

Johnny suddenly lurched forward, and Peanut put his hands up to cover his face. Instead of fists, though, he was meant with a heavy sigh. He reluctantly moved his hands away, looking at Johnny looming over him with his fists raised. They dropped to his sides, and he exhaled heavily, looking away. "Sorry," Johnny mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "You're right… you're right."

Peanut frowned, reaching out. He looked exhausted. "Johnny…"

He flinched, pulling away, and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Look, I just need some time to cool off, alright? I'll see you later, Peanut," he said quietly, turning away.

Peanut nodded numbly. "Alright." Johnny walked out, slamming the door loudly behind him. Peanut sighed, running a hand down his face. It didn't take long before he threw on his jacket and ran out the door right behind him.

----

Peanut was avid about finding Johnny; he always got a little crazy when him and Lola got into arguments, and this was pretty big. Much smaller rifts between them had caused him to do hugely stupid things. Leaving him to his own devices at the moment was not a good thing; especially with the tensions between the townies and all of the school cliques were threatening to bubble over at any second.

His first stop was at school. He searched the boy's dorm, but he wasn't there. His second stop was the auto shop. The first thing he noticed was that Johnny's prized BMX wasn't hanging up - he had taken it out. Peanut sighed, rubbing his forehead.

A stout boy popped out from under a car, waving. "'Ey, Peanut, you lookin' for someone?" It was Hal; his face was black with dirt and whatever else he was working with. Peanut gave him a small smile.

"Yeah… Johnny, ya seen him?"

Hal's face suddenly fell, and he looked away. "Uhn, no. Don't know where, I mean, why would I-"

"It's already out, isn't it?" Peanut interrupted suddenly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and glaring moodily at the ground. "How Johnny and Lola split."

Hal nodded, rubbing his forehead. He was smearing black oil over his face, but he didn't seem to notice. He climbed from out under the car. "Yeah. She got caught with one of those drop-out townie dopes." He leaned downward, reaching under the car, and grabbing the monkey wrench he had left under there. He wiped it down with a nearby rag. "I think it was either Duncan, or Jerry."

"Duncan's for the other team, it's Jerry who did it," Peanut commented off-handedly, then added, "You sure you don't know where he is?"

Hal frowned, and he looked back up at him. "If he's not here, or back at the tenements, he's probably at the Pool Hall. You know they sell booze there long as you got money and can reach the bar." He shook the wrench around, trying to think of other places. "Or, if it really was the townies, he might be hanging out 'round Blue Skies to try n' beat ones' skull, but I don't think he's that stupid."

Peanut shrugged. "Yeah, guess so…" They fell quiet, and Hal ducked down underneath the car again, metal clinking against metal as he started to tinker with the car once more. Peanut scuffed his shoes against the ground. "So, I guess I'll be seein' you around?"

"Yeah, but- Larry?" he asked, his voice slightly nervous. His head poked out from under the car, his eyes ivory against his dirty skin, bringing out how the pitch black pupils seemed to dart around. "The boys have been saying stuff…"

Peanut stared. They never used his real name anymore. "Like what?"

"We were thinkin', it's better for the whole group if we kicked Lola out," he said somberly, quickly adding, "I'm not sayin' this is what everyone thinks, but it's pretty unanimous. She may be pretty nice on the eyes and all, and, hey, we all know that you've been wanting to hook up with her for _awhile,_" He wiggled his eyebrows at Peanut, and Peanut faked a dogged smile. Oh, if they only knew. "But she's no good."

Peanut's face fell. "Yeah. I know. Johnny's not gonna let that happen, though."

Hal's face hardened, looking out of place on his chubby features. "Yeah. I know. That's why I wanted to tell you first, 'fore everyone announced it to him. You need to convince him, 'cause, well…" he sighed, clinking the wrench against the car idly as he tried to find the right words to say. "You know how messy shit like this can get, 'specially with girlfriends and leaders."

Peanut gave another awkward shrug. "Yeah. I know."

Hal gave him a flourishing wave with his monkey wrench. "Johnny's like a brother to us, but you know, it's for the best of the clique." He pulled back under the car, the rhythmic clanks resounding again. "Just try an' get him to understand, Peanut? I know you can. You're his closest friend an' all."

Peanut frowned. "Yeah, sure, Hal." He turned on his heel, heading towards the door.

"Oh, and one last thing! Can you see if Lola would date me? I heard she got a thing for chubby guys…"

Peanut rolled his eyes, quickening his pace, and leaving Hal to work on his car.

-----

Peanut looked up as he pushed the door open, watching as it bumped into the small bell that hung over the door, and making it ring softly throughout the door. He swore it should have made much more noise than it did, but maybe it was the haze of smoke that was hanging through the bar, stopping the sound right in it's tracks. Peanut's nose wrinkled, the door swinging shut.

"'Ey!" The bartender was rough looking, beady eyes and a nasty looking nose piercing that was much too red to not be infected. He was cleaning a few of the glasses idly with a rag too dirty to clean things. "Whatchoo doin' in here? Ya got any money, punk?"

Peanut flashed his worn black wallet, and the bartender nodded at him. "Fair 'nuff. Don't make no trouble, you hear?" He pointed at him, before turning away to tend to his customers. Peanut sighed. All of the adults recently were a little suspicious of the kids ever since the town hall was tagged. You could be wearing bright green and have pants up to your chest, and they would still think you were trouble just waiting to happen.

He scanned the crowd carefully. It was mostly filled with older folk; the thirty-somethings that still clung to punk and anarchy, the dirty Russians that were taking whiskey by IV, that cranky old man that liked to throw things at the tenement windows. The smaller, slightly huddled body at the table caught his eye, and he carefully made his way through the stuffy bar, ignoring the glares and wary looks from the older patrons.

"Hey," Peanut could recognize that worn black leather from anywhere. He lightly touched his shoulder, and Johnny jerked around, the cigarette nearly falling from his lips. His glare softened slightly. Peanut looked down at the half-empty glass clutched in his hands. "You, uh… ran off pretty suddenly today, Johnny."

"Yeah," he said gruffly. "Told ya, I needed some fresh air to think."

Peanut took a seat next to him on a worn barstool, leaning against the polished wood. "Fresh air? There's enough smoke in here to make a fog," he said jokingly, elbowing Johnny lightly in the arm. He smiled lightly, though his melancholy refused to let go.

"You drinkin' here, punk, or are you two just here for a pow-wow?" the bartender interrupted quickly, his voice nasally. "'Cause if you're here to take up space, you can leave."

Peanut made a face. "I'll have whatever he's having." He thumbed over at Johnny, and the bartender smirked, nodding. Peanut sighed, turning back to Johnny.

Johnny finished the rest of his beer off, looking over at Peanut. "So, what? What'd you come here for?"

Peanut turned around on the stool, leaning back against the bar. "I was worried. You know how you act when…" he paused, nervous, watching as Johnny's stare hardened. "You and Lola…"

"Me an' Lola…" Johnny snorted, and as soon as the bartender set down Peanut's drink, he nabbed it from him, taking a swig. The bartender slid another beer towards them, and Peanut held onto it, gazing at Johnny anxiously. "I was so blind."

Peanut frowned. He really didn't know what to say, but Johnny didn't let them dwell into silence. "She's a fucking whore, Peanut, you know that? Sleeps around with everyone - the trust-fund fairies, the 'roid monkeys, the nerds… probably Kowalski has even had a piece of her ass, for fuck's sake!" he snarled in between angry gulps of beer, "What a slut…"

Peanut wanted to agree, but he was much too wary. Johnny's opinions on Lola changed faster than Gord Vendrome's wardrobe, and it wouldn't surprise him if he started to defend her once one ill word was said against her. He just stared down at his mostly full glass.

Johnny looked absolutely miserable, cradling his head in his hand with the other wrapped around his glass. "I bet she'd be with Harrington right now, if he wasn't a fucking faggot," he snarled, chugging down the whole beer, and slamming the glass all too hard back against the bar. "She'd get the benefits of being the leader's girlfriend an' the money."

"Aw, Johnny, that ain't true." He took his beer, taking a deep gulp. He'd need the buzz to be able to pull Johnny out of this slump. It would take some heavy lying on his part. "I bet she…" He paused, tilting the glass back, and chugging a good quarter of it down, grimacing at the taste and what he was about to say. He placed it down, ignoring Johnny's surprised stare. "Really misses you."

Johnny frowned, staring at his glass. "I doubt it."

"Really…" He paused, taking another hearty sip. "I bet she does. She's gonna come back tomorrow, askin' to be with you again." Peanut was suddenly craving a cigarette, and he took out a pack, taking one out. Johnny handed him his lighter, and he gave him a silent nod of thanks as he lit his smoke.

Johnny took back his lighter, tucking it neatly into his pocket. "I don't think I should take her back, Peanut," he said softly, looking off to the side. He didn't see the way Peanut seemed to brighten, on the verge of smiling. "But I know I will," Peanut's whole demeanor changed in a flash, "I can't help it. It's those damned eyes…"

Peanut finished the rest of his beer, feeling melancholy. "I understand…" He waved at the bartender, flashing two fingers at the man before turning back to Johnny. "If you don't think it's right, maybe you shouldn't get back together."

The bartender slid the two glasses downward, and Johnny took his, taking a small sip. "Maybe. Maybe not. I still miss her." He let out a wistful sigh, not noticing how Peanut had very abruptly became an alcoholic and was chugging down his beer. Johnny sighed, taking in a drag of his cigarette, and blowing it out slowly. "God, I miss her."

"It hasn't even been a full day," Peanut lamented, feeling bitter and jealous. He shook his head slowly, trying to keep his emotions in check; he couldn't just jump from 'best friend' to 'pining boy' mode over a few beers.

"That's how amazin' she is, Peanut!" Johnny frowned, wallowing in heartbreak. "Not even a day without her is like forever in hell. She may be a slut, but I love her." He took another gulp of his beer. "I don't deserve her."

"She doesn't deserve you." Peanut mumbled under his breath, but Johnny didn't hear it.

"I don't deserve her," Johnny repeated, mumbling it a few times like a mantra. Peanut fell silent, nursing his drink as Johnny stared off and kept mumbling to himself.

It wasn't long until the glasses piled up, and the bar grew even darker through the haze of smoke. A cig hung limply from Peanut's lips, and he struggled through his wallet. The bartender's gaze was piercing, and he grumbled as he finally wormed the three twenties from his wallet, a month or two's worth of money. He slapped it on the table. "There, that enough?"

"Mm-hmm." The bartender smirked, taking the money, and tucking it into his pocket. Johnny shakily stood from his barstool, hanging on for dear life as he swayed on his feet. Peanut hopped down along with him, guiding him through the bar towards the door.

He pushed the doors open and the fresh night air assaulted his lungs so vigorously, Peanut had to stop and cough before he could move, the cold air pushing out the fifty packs of smokes he must have breathed in just hanging around in that place. Johnny frowned, hunched over as he took a wobbly step forward.

"Let's head back," Peanut said quietly. Johnny nodded, watching his feet as he swayed.

"'Ey, Larry?"

Peanut walked up next to him, making sure Johnny wouldn't fall. "Yeah?"

"I miss her."

Peanut gazed at the ground. "Yeah. I know, Johnny, I know."

----

Next chapter will really make the JohnnyxPeanut fans pretty happy. Anyway, please review, and check out some of my other bully stories on FF and on my LJ.


	3. Drunken Tango

Chapter 3: Drunk Tango

----

"What the fuck do I know?" Johnny slurred, stumbling. Peanut yelped, quickly ducking under Johnny's arm, and holding his boss up. Maybe not calling a taxi was a bad idea. They weren't that far away from the tenements, but night had fallen, and the dark made it that much harder to notice what was coming up along the familiar route. A rat scurried past, and Peanut jumped slightly- his hands clutching the sleeve of Johnny's coat. "Nothin'. Don't know why she did it to me. Lola… maybe Lola doesn't deserve _me_." He shook his head, making him stagger towards the right. Peanut straightened his course. "No, no… I don't deserve her."

Johnny smiled warmly at him, before his features changed in a flash, his mind already off focusing on something else. "I know! I know why she didn't fuck me…" A small rock underfoot was like a mountain, and he would have fallen if Peanut wasn't supporting him. "I'm an ugly bastard, ain't I, Larry?"

Peanut frowned, blushing, and suddenly feeling the need to squirm away from Johnny. He would surely fall without him though, so he stayed. "I…." He helped Johnny up the small steps in front of the abandoned tenements, supporting him as his feet stumbled over each other. He pushed open the door with one hand, the other on his best friend's waist. No, he couldn't go into _that_ territory. Just the thinking over the question made his face heat up.

"See!" Johnny suddenly pulled away, stumbling through the doorway. Luckily, Johnny's bedroom was on the first floor, so they could avoid the potential accidents of the broken floors and rickety stairs that plagued the second floor. He weaved forward, passing through an old doorway that had lost its door. Peanut quickly closed the main door behind him, following after Johnny. "You know it. Won't admit it- 'cause you're a good friend, Peanut, my best friend - but you still know it, damn well know it."

Peanut followed him, chewing on his bottom lip. "That's not true… I never said…"

"Yeah, yeah, silence is worth a thousand words…" he grumbled, pushing through a door that stood only on it's last hinge. Peanut quickly followed Johnny into his room. "I know what you think of me-"

"If I was a girl, I'd do ya, boss!" Peanut suddenly burst out, his cheeks red. Realizing that the door was still open, he went even redder, slamming the door shut in a hurry. Even though they had probably woken everyone in the tenements tromping through like they did, he didn't want anybody to hear _that._

Johnny was ignorant. Probably so until the day he died. Johnny was unflinching, frowning more, his brows furrowing. "No, you wouldn't."

"I would," Peanut's eyes went soft. "You're very handsome. I would. Honest."

Johnny smiled thoughtfully, almost looking like he believed Peanut. (Which scared him more than his ignorance.) And then he snorted: "Bull shit! I know ya, Peanut, you wouldn't do me if I was a girl with the biggest tits in the world, I've got such an ugly mug."

Peanut shifted from one foot to the other, gazing at the floor. "I… I think you're really good lookin', Johnny. Hot, even." He shouldn't say these things. Peanut spent every day with his defenses up, always in 'Best friend mode'. But Johnny's questions were prompting him over into 'Crush' mode; opening up emotions and urges he always hid when Johnny was around. Peanut looked up, walking close to Johnny. "I really do." The alcohol wasn't allowing him to think straight, and all Peanut noticed right now was how pretty Johnny's eyes were.

"Don't believe you," Johnny said with a good-natured smile, leaning forward slightly so that he towered above Peanut. It was a challenge.

Peanut grabbed Johnny's shirt, going to his tiptoes, and pressing his lips onto Johnny's. At first, he didn't react, and Peanut nearly pulled away in fear. He only kept going because he was afraid his hand wouldn't be able to untangle from his school vest, warm and familiar to the touch. His tongue slicked over Johnny's lips, but he didn't push forward, instead pulling his head away. Peanut's face was red, satisfied and embarrassed at the same time.

"I-I…" His hand curled around his vest tighter. "I told you, I told you, I'd do you if I was a girl."

Johnny's eyes were wide. "You…"

Peanut blushed, looking at his feet, and letting go of Johnny's shirt. "S-s-sorry…" His tongue was sticking fast in his mouth, which had gone dry, as Johnny's look turned into one of befuddlement. "I…"

The hand on his cheek startled him, and Peanut only managed a squeak before Johnny tilted his face up, and kissed him. Peanut stared wide-eyed as Johnny's tongue brushed his lips, then pushed past.

Peanut's eyes fluttered close, hurriedly gripping the lapels of Johnny's jacket as his own tongue sprang to life. Johnny tasted like beer, cigarettes, and old tic-tacs; it was disgusting and wonderful, especially wonderful when Johnny moaned shamelessly into his mouth when their tongues slicked together.

Johnny staggered forward slightly, one hand dropping to hold Peanut's side. Peanut squeaked, still connected to Johnny's lips as he stepped backwards. He moaned and kept nudging him rearward- Peanut kept walking until he felt his heel hit the worn mattress that laid on the floor.

Johnny finally broke the kiss, his breath coming out in a short pants. "You'd do me?" His voice was husky, and Peanut felt the bottom of his stomach twist into knots as Johnny pressed against him. "Even if I was a guy and you was a guy too? You would?"

"I would," Peanut said with a fervent nod. Johnny smiled.

"Get on the bed, then."

It wasn't so much a bed than it was just a mattress with a sheet and heavy comforter draped atop of it, a lumpy pillow atop of that. There was a spring sticking out of the side, and next to the bed was a 'nightstand' - or, a stack of old comics, assorted magazines, and playboys that held a bare lamp and his lighter. Peanut nodded numbly, sitting down on it. Johnny sat next to him, pushing Peanut back on the bed, and crawling on of his body. Peanut flushed, watching as Johnny sat on his thighs, gazing down at him hungrily.

He leaned down, his fingers pushed off the heavy leather jacket. Peanut leaned up slightly, shrugging it off, and pushing it away. Johnny started to unbutton the ragged old Bullworth polo that he wore underneath, fumbling drunkenly with the buttons.

"Johnny… w-wait…" Peanut started to push off Johnny's coat. Johnny smiled, kissing Peanut's neck.

"What?"

"You're going too fast," Peanut mumbled, flustered, already feeling naked though he was only missing his coat. He was pushing Johnny's shirt off, arching his own back so that Johnny could slide the dress shirt off of himself. As soon as skin was exposed, Johnny took to exploring it, his lips touching off on his collarbone before wandering downwards. Peanut's breath hitched, his fingers fumbling slightly with Johnny's clothes as warm, slick lips slid down, tongue and teeth scraping his soft skin.

He finally managed to push Johnny's shirt off. By then, Johnny's tongue had ventured lower. He experimentally flicked his tongue over Peanut's nipple. When he shivered, Johnny smiled and bit down, eliciting a yelp from him.

"Ahhn!" His toes curled, as the sharp pain became the delicious feeling of tongue and sucking on the small nub. "J-Johnny…" It didn't take long before he teased his nipple until it was hard, and Johnny moved his mouth to the next, making Peanut groan and shudder.

Johnny soon got bored, and his lips trailed down, looking for something new to taste and tease. He licked a path down, Peanut's eyes on him as he fell further down his body. He paused at Peanut's belly button, smirking, and dipping his tongue in.

Peanut yelped. "Ah! That tickles!"

Johnny made a disgusted face, chuckling weakly. There was a piece of lint hanging off his tongue, and he grabbed it, flicking it off to the side. Peanut laughed lightly. "'Mind me never to do that again, okay?" Johnny said, grinning sheepishly.

Peanut smiled. "'Kay…"

Johnny's lips moved downwards, light kisses pressed against his skin as he finally neared the hem of Peanut's pants. Johnny easily took off his belt, throwing it over to his side. Flashing Peanut a cocky smirk, he pressed his lips against the button of his jeans, using his teeth and tongue to undo it. Peanut's heart skipped a few beats as Johnny's mouth went down to the zipper, his teeth flashing white against the silver teeth of the zipper, slowly pulling it down, releasing the tight tension around Peanut's groin.

When everything was undone, Johnny pulled Peanut's pants down, lifting his hips up to get rid of the pants. Peanut chewed on his lip, watching as Johnny eyed his boxer-clad hard-on. Experimentally, Johnny leaned down, pressing his mouth against the fabric in a sort of kiss. Peanut gasped, his eyes fluttering.

Johnny chuckled low in his throat, suddenly reaching up, and jerking down Peanut's boxers. The sudden burst of cool air made him shiver and wriggle, and his eyes were on Johnny who was holding rapt attention to Peanut's cock.

Johnny stared a bit, making Peanut squirm. Even though his eyes were glassy and the room was nearly pitch black, he felt like Johnny could see _everything_. Maybe into his soul, if he would just squint and turn his head to the side. Johnny let out a small sigh, one that Peanut couldn't decipher the meaning. It was too dark to see much, but he had to have seen _that_: He took it as a sigh of disappointment, and felt his cheeks burn red.

"Look," Peanut began quickly, and he grabbed a nearby pillow, stuffing it atop his crotch. Johnny looked at him quizzically, becoming even more confused as Peanut wobbled to his feet. "Forget this, I'm sorry, I'm not… I'm sorry. Sorry," he mumbled. Johnny gave him a disconcerted look. His features suddenly mellowed, and he grabbed Peanut's arm, tugging.

"Where you going?" he pouted. Johnny always had those boyish looks, the good-boy face with the ne'er do well attitude. Peanut whimpered, still clutching onto the pillow with one hand. Johnny grabbed Peanut's arm, jerking him towards the bed, and Peanut pulled away from him.

"I can't, Johnny, I…"

"Peanut…"

"That's why!" he suddenly yelled, pointing accusingly at Johnny, and nearly dropping the pillow. Johnny blinked, startled. "That's why I can't! I'm… I'm… _Peanut_." He shook his head in frustration. "Look, I'm gonna go, alright?" He started to scoop his clothes up, pillow still firmly clasped to his groin.

"Larry," Johnny's voice was soft, caring even, and Peanut stopped dead in his tracks, looking over at Johnny. He extended a hand out. "Come back to bed. Please?" The last time he had heard Johnny talk like that… it had been directed to Lola. That loving, caring sort of tone, and it made him shiver. Reluctantly, he dropped his clothes, but kept the pillow, walking back towards the mattress. Johnny smiled. "Good…" He sat back on the mattress, and Johnny pushed him back onto the bed.

Peanut felt stupid. He felt so self-conscious as Johnny straddled his hips, that lazy drunken smile plastered onto his face. Very carefully, he let him pry his hands away from the pillow, very slowly removing what shred of courage he was clinging to. And then he slid the pillow away, white fluff revealing pale skin and hair. He looked again, just like last time, though Peanut could see Johnny's eyes more clearly. He looked like he was somewhere else. (Maybe he was. Maybe all Johnny could _really_ see through the dark was Lola Lombardi, and he didn't even notice that he was not as big as Johnny was.)

Johnny leaned forward, capturing Peanut's lips in a soft, slow kiss. Peanut slid a hand up, cradling Johnny's cheek as their lips connected again. Johnny's tongue pushed forward, sliding slowly past Peanut's lips and tangling with his tongue. He groaned, his eyes half-lidded. It didn't really matter now, if Johnny was only seeing Lola, because he was here with him, doing things that they had never done before.

Peanut whimpered. Johnny exhaled, breaking the kiss, and nibbling on Peanut's bottom lip - his breath hot and shaky. In the dark, Peanut could see Johnny's bright eyes, the hunger behind that glassy stare. He smiled, and Johnny smirked, biting his lip a little harder.

A hand suddenly clamped around his shaft, and he startled, taking in a sharp breath. Johnny started to move his fingers, and Peanut groaned, back arching. "Johnny…"

"Hmm?" he hummed pleasantly, watching Peanut shudder under his touches.

"A-are you sure I'm alright?"

Johnny paused, frowning, "You talk like a chick."

Peanut flushed even more. "No I, just…" Johnny's hand started to rub again, and his toes curled. Peanut bit his lip, trying to hold down the embarrassing sounds that were welling up in him. "Johnny… I'm not…" He pawed weakly at Johnny's chest, trying to protest and push him away, but all he managed was to groan and arch into Johnny's callous palm.

Johnny smiled, leaning forward. "Shush, babe, you're beautiful."

Peanut's eyes widened. And then it sunk in. He looked away, concentrating on one of the exposed pieces of wire in the wall. "Ya… ya think so?" he murmured, his eyes closing as Johnny ran his fingers against the underside of his shaft, biting his lip hard enough that it bled to keep from moaning.

"Yeah, I do…" Johnny whispered softly, leaning down, and placing a small kiss on Peanut's lips. He pulled away lightly, suddenly sitting up. Peanut flinched, waiting for the "Just kidding!" but it never came. Instead, Johnny went about undoing the buttons on his jeans, where his erection was obviously tenting the stiff material. Peanut blushed, holding rapt attention as Johnny popped the button of his jeans off, sliding the zipper down.

It took some struggling, but Johnny managed to slide off his boxers with his pants, flicking them to the side. Peanut blushed, gazing away.

"Johnny?"

He let out an irritated sigh. "I already told you, there's nothin'-"

"No," Peanut interrupted. "Not that…" He gazed shyly away, and then looked up at his face. "Get off of me and lie down, would ya?"

Johnny gave him a curious look, but nodded, sitting back on the edge of the bed. Peanut sat up, and Johnny laid down, grinning slightly as Peanut awkwardly sat on his lap. He settled his hands on Peanut's waist, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin there. Peanut shivered, leaning down, and placing soft kisses on Johnny's neck.

"Larry…" he purred softly, his eyes moving to slits at the warm, wet kisses. "You're too gentle for toppin', ya know? Ya gotta be-" Johnny suddenly took in a sharp, shuddering breath as Peanut's hand gripped both of their lengths, rubbing heated flesh together. "_Oh_, fuck!"

"G-good enough for you?" Peanut stammered, his breath shaky as his hand skillfully rubbed, thumb slicking over the heads of both of their cocks. They both moaned, Johnny arching wantonly into Peanut's slow, firm strokes.

"Unngh, Larry…" Johnny pushed his hands into Peanut's hair, pulling their heads together, lips crashing into a fiery embrace. Peanut had a wonderful hand, trained over plenty of lonely nights, and Johnny was reaping the rewards. He moaned as Peanut started to rock his hips, their lengths grinding together slightly as his hands rubbed.

The room was hot, and the small mattress didn't seem like it could contain them. Johnny arched up, raking his uneven nails across Peanut's back, leaving brash marks on his soft skin. Heavy breathing and airy moans filled the room, and Peanut whined as Johnny's hand joined his, rubbing, and gripping, and driving them both mad.

Peanut shuddered, his back arching into a perfect half-circle as he cried out. "_Johnny!_" His eyes screwed shut, and he shuddered as he came, spilling his seed over both of their hands. Johnny kept leading his hand, pumping him until he was spent, his eyes half lidded as he neared his peak.

"Kiss me," Johnny growled. Peanut groaned, feeling every little touch on his over sensitized flesh as he leaned down, and crushed his lips onto Johnny's. His tongue drowned Johnny's yells out, and he thrust his hips up as he came. They didn't stop kissing until they were out of breath, and their hands fell slow to a stop. Peanut shuddered, pulling his sticky hand away, and deftly wiping it on Johnny's stomach. He grimaced, grumbling nonsense as Peanut promptly collapsed onto his friend.

Johnny hissed, closing his eyes as Peanut nuzzled tiredly into his chest. "Nngh… good." He was out of breath, and his chest rose and fell in harsh intervals, up and down, up and down… Peanut felt his eyes droop, and he clutched at Johnny's sides. "So good…"

They smelt like sex, sweat, cigarettes, and cheap beer. Peanut would bottle it up and keep it if he could. "It was?" he asked sleepily.

"Uh huh." Johnny said, catching his breath. He wrapped his arms around Peanut, letting out a long sigh. "Damn good…" he murmured, craning his neck so that he could kiss the top of Peanut's head.

"Hmm…" Peanut merely hummed in reply, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the warmth and the slow breathing of Johnny. It didn't take long before they both fell asleep from exhaustion and the alcohol. Peanut's dreams were never sweeter.

----

Thanks to all my reviewers!

Now, I know what you're thinking, and you're groaning over how predictable the plot is. Stories have done the 'drunk sex leads to more' plot so many times, and promise you, whatever you think is going to happen is not going to happen, 'cause this story isn't going to become one of those clichés.

I'd really love if I got at least three reviews, guys, but no pressure.


	4. Next Morning

**Chapter 4: **Next Morning

**Author's Note:**Sorry for the delay. :( Thanks to my beta, Airenko! Also, thanks tons to the people who review, especially Mrs.Revovler!

**--**

Warm summer sunlight streamed in through the window, dappled by the moth-eaten curtains that hung limply. It couldn't have been past six; the birds could actually be heard in New Coventry at this time, where the city was asleep from the night of mischief and partying before. It was peaceful at the moment, and all in all, a perfect time to be virtually glued to the best friend you had a crush on because of the sweat and semen from last night's activities.

Well, maybe not quite.

Peanut murmured softly in his sleep, his cheek pressed awkwardly against Johnny's chest. While Peanut was mostly contained, his hands close to his chest, Johnny had decided to nearly envelop Peanut. There was an arm flung over him, and a leg, like he was scared of him suddenly up and running in the middle of the night. Peanut yawned sleepily, slowly stretching his arm out around Johnny. Johnny grumbled lightly, his arm winding tighter around Peanut, and pulling him close.

Peanut blearily opened his eyes, groaning at the bright light that seemed to hit him. He pressed his face against Johnny's chest, closing his eyes again.

"Stupid… light… mmnn…" Peanut murmured. His eyes suddenly opened, and he pulled his head away from Johnny's chest, looking up. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes went wide.

Even though he smelled awful and his hair was plastered every which way, Peanut could not have noticed a more beautiful face. He reached up numbly, his knuckles brushing against Johnny's cheekbone. He murmured gently under his touch, smiling lightly in his sleep.

Peanut closed his eyes, wrapping his arm around Johnny again. _'We did it last night… didn't we?' _He smiled lightly, pressing his cheek against Johnny's chest, hearing his heart thump under the skin. Even though he was sporting a dull, thumping headache, he couldn't be happier about last night. _'Now he'll know… he'll realize what he means to me, what I mean to him.'_ He was feeling giddy, and though all Peanut wanted to do at the moment was jump up and start dancing, he decided laying in Johnny's arms was much better.

Johnny mumbled something unintelligible, his arms tightening around Peanut, and he pressed his face down, his lips against his scalp. Peanut blushed, his hands gripping Johnny's hips. Johnny kissed his hair, his eyes opening to slits.

"Hullo…" Johnny whispered quietly, yawning. He kissed his hair, sleepily nuzzling his head.

Peanut smiled. "Good mornin'…"

Johnny's whole body suddenly tensed against him, the hand around Peanut digging into his side. He pulled away from him, nearly falling off the small mattress as he stared at Peanut. He rubbed at his eyes furiously, gazing at Peanut with a vacant, confused stare.

Peanut chewed his lip, his stomach flipping and feeling queasy. Johnny reached out, and Peanut flinched when his hand came into contact with his face; just a light, curious touch, to see if he was really there. He suddenly pulled back like he was on fire, groaning, and rolling over onto his knees off the mattress. "Oh, Christ, fuckin' ace, fuckin' ace…" he growled, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.

Peanut propped himself up on his elbows, feeling numb. "… Johnny?"

"… Larry," Johnny let out a ragged sigh. "Tell me I didn't fuck you, please."

Peanut grabbed the pillow they had used, stuffing it on top of his crotch. He needed some sort of security, now that Johnny was looking at him with those eyes filled with… disgust. (Was it aimed at him, or self-disgust? Peanut looked away, feeling sick.) "You mean… like… no, nothing like that…" Peanut mumbled. Johnny turned around, looking pale.

"We… What did we do?" Johnny pressed a hand up to his forehead, trying to quell the pain. He could barely remember anything of last night; it started with him being bitter, then alcohol… more alcohol… His eyes fell on Peanut awkwardly holding the pillow to himself, and his face seemed to fall. Pillow…"Never mind," he said quietly, his eyes on Peanut. Peanut went red with embarrassment, clutching the pillow tightly. He remembered last night, through glassy eyes as he coaxed Peanut back to bed. He should have let him run. "I remember what we did." He turned around again, standing up, and pacing the room.

Peanut frowned, looking down at the mattress. "I…" His voice died out at the sound of the boards squeaking under Johnny's feet. There wasn't a worse feeling in the word, sitting on a mangy mattress while trying to ignore your best friend pacing naked throughout his room.

"…Look." Johnny stopped, running a hand through his hair, and looking at Peanut. "Let's just forget all about this, alright?" he said, then quickly turned and walked toward his dresser, not even bothering to wait for an answer from Peanut.

Johnny started to rummage through clothes, something to occupy his trembling hands. He felt dirty. There was something disgusting on his stomach, and he would have been in the shower by now if his mind was not still trying to process how he could have done these things with his best friend.

And why Peanut wasn't half as disturbed as he should be. Not even a quarter. Why wasn't he running away in disgust? Wasn't he the one last night that wanted to leave?

"Forget about it…?" Peanut parroted numbly, looking at the pillow he was wringing in his hands. God, what a fool he was. It was all the Budweiser and Coors talking last night, and he had been none the wiser.

"Yes!" Johnny barked suddenly, whirling around. Peanut looked absolutely pale, frightened even, and Johnny's face softened slightly. He looked so pitiful sitting there, and he looked like he was close to tears. "We have to keep this silent." He pointed a finger at Peanut. "I'm not a faggot, and neither are you."

Peanut frowned, standing quietly, and still clutching the pillow to his body as he gathered his things. "So, you can't tell no one," Johnny continued. "'Specially any of the guys, and not Lola… urrggh, we'd never hear the end of it. They wouldn't respect me anymore; we'd be kicked out, clique-less, one of those weird buggers like Constantinople or whatever the hell his name is…"

"What if I am a faggot?" Peanut asked bluntly, shimmying his dirty underwear on. Johnny stared at him, and Peanut cast him a fleeting glance, turning slightly red, and concentrating back on putting his clothes on. "I-I mean… I _liked_ last night, Johnny, and so did you. Maybe we're… bisexual?" he ventured, his voice becoming meeker as Johnny's mouth gaped a little bit more.

"…We…. We were dunk last night, Larry, piss-drunk." He feigned a grin, trying to keep up a playful tone so the conversation wouldn't take a quick nosedive into awkwardness. "You would probably hump a couch if it had lipstick on-"

"No. I told you last night, Johnny, I'd do-"

"Shut up, Larry," Johnny interrupted quickly, his face turning serious, "Just shut up."

"Didn't you like it?" Peanut asked desperately, standing there only in his boxers. "I mean, Johnny, ya moaned a lot last night, you had to-" Peanut yelped and ducked as a bottle of hair spray went through the space his head had been just a few seconds before, hitting the wall hard, and bouncing off.

"Get the fuck out!" Johnny screamed. Peanut hurriedly grabbed his things as Johnny stalked forward, "Just get out, get out of my God damn room!" He looked ready to kill Peanut, his eyes flashing. "Johnny Vincent ain't no fucking faggot!"

"Johnny!" Peanut yelled, squealing as he barely dodged a ceramic piggy bank. It hit the opposite wall, shattering on impact, and sending shards every which way. He struggled on his shirt, his shoes and socks clutched in one hand.

Johnny lunged for him, and he would have tackled Peanut to the floor if his foot hadn't gone right through one of the broken pieces. He shouted, cursing, and stumbling back as his foot came up. The white ceramic stuck through the dirty sock like bone, red running through and quickly staining. "Son of a bitch…!" Johnny cursed loudly, his face twisting in pain as he quickly sat down, and cradled his pained foot.

Peanut gave Johnny a sympathetic frown, taking a slight step forward. Johnny glared at Peanut, his teeth bared from the pain. "Get _out_."

"Johnny," Peanut sounded desperate. "Let me help, I don't want-"

"I don't need you! Get out!" Johnny yelled, his voice cracking at the end. He grit his teeth, bowing his head in pain.

Peanut paused, before reluctantly leaving. He barely caught the half-muffled sob that floated from Johnny's room as he left.

He hadn't really expected that.

---

"What's wrong with you, pauper?"

"Yeah, you dirty oil slick, you've been limping around like a wounded dog. Oh, well, I guess it makes sense; your mother is a bitch."

Derby gave Bif a congratulatory smile, and Bif beamed. Johnny frowned at them, staring nastily at the two. "Harrington and Tremblay. Aw, don't you two butt-buddies look nice." Bif frowned, clenching his fists, and Johnny just continued, his voice dripping with malicious sarcasm, "I bet you're so proud of your boyfriend of makin' a funny, eh, Derby?"

Derby scoffed. They were usually civil enough in class where they wouldn't have to pull out such low blows like sexuality. "What put you in such a mood? Lola got someone else's tongue?" he asked smugly.

Johnny gripped his desk tightly. "You take that back, you son of a-"

"Gentlemen!" Mr. Galloway's voice projected through the room, making all three students turn and look over at him. The class became suddenly quiet, turning around to gaze over at them. Mr. Galloway knew he shouldn't have seated them all together in the back, but there was no better way to create friendliness than by squashing two enemies together, right? "Please, concentrate on the words that are on your paper and not the ones that are coming out of your mouths. Summer is creeping up on us, and the finals are only in a month!" He clasped his hands together, giving them a smile.

Johnny glowered at Derby and Bif. Derby stuck his nose up, making a point not to even look in Johnny's direction. Besides, Bif was doing all of the angry, hateful glaring for him.

"Good. Now, please try to peacefully complete the assignment, alright?" Mr. Galloway asked, smiling. He turned, sitting back down at his desk. It didn't take long for the rest of the class to start murmuring again, and eventually the sound climbed back into a dull roar.

Johnny propped up his wounded foot on the back of a nerd's chair. ("Ew… Johnny, please don't put those-", "Shut it!", "O-okay.") The sandal he was wearing was so oddly uncharacteristic of him; it would have made more sense if he was growing an extra horn or wearing the sandal as a hat. They were the only pair he had, worn brown ones, and the only thing he could bare to wear with his wrapped up foot.

"Your feet are downright _foul_, Vincent. No wonder you wear those unfashionable boots all of the time. They're only marginally better than the smell those two disease ridden things you call feet exude," Derby taunted, his eyes concentrated on his paper so as not to alert Galloway. Johnny scowled, leaning back in his chair. "I guess that happens when you live in a disgusting, filthy place like New Coventry; stepping on the whiskey bottles your drunk of a mother leaves around." Harrington was being particularly nasty today, but mostly all of the preppies were. Only after a day, and the whole school knew at least a partial bit of the story; Lola got caught screwing some townie, and they had broken up.

Johnny gripped his pencil tightly, his face suddenly becoming devoid of emotion. "Shut it, Harrington, Galloway says we need to get our work done."

Derby raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over. That was odd. Usually when something bothered Johnny, he would explode back in reply. Being silent and taking it like a chump wasn't his style. "When has English ever been your priority?" Johnny didn't reply, just gazed passively at his paper. Derby frowned.

And then something struck Derby; Peanut wasn't there. The four of them sat in the back every English class: Derby and Bif sat in a row, and were directly across from Johnny and Peanut. Peanut never missed Galloway's classes, unless Johnny did. (But, Derby always regarded Peanut as a sort of leech. He'd jump off a bridge with Johnny if he chose.) So why wasn't he here?

Derby's grin grew wide, his eyes narrowing as he internally congratulated himself for being so brilliant. Bif gave him a questioning look, noticing the change in mood, but Derby simply leaned near Johnny, tapping his pencil idly on his desk.

Johnny frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. He looked up, reaching for Derby's hand, but he withdrew it too quickly. He wagged it at Johnny, just making him frown more. "Where's your boyfriend, Vincent?" he asked smoothly, flashing him a sharp grin full of teeth.

(Later on, Earnest- who was the nerd that Johnny decided would enjoy the company of his feet- would say that he never even noticed Johnny leap from his seat. He had moved so fast and smoothly that it only occurred there was nothing right up next to him because the stench was suddenly gone, and Derby screamed bloody murder.)

Derby shrieked as Johnny literally lunged over the side of the desk, tackling Derby back and out of his desk onto the floor. The whole class rose into commotion, everyone standing from their seats, and cheering as Johnny slugged Derby right in the face. "Fight, fight, fight!"

Bif yelled and jumped from his seat, tackling Johnny off of Derby just as he landed a punch straight to his nose.

"Take that back, you fuckin' fairy!" Johnny snarled, grappling with Bif. Derby was sitting on the floor, dazedly clutching his bleeding nose. Bif took the time to wrestle Johnny on his back, trying to get a fist into his face.

Mr. Galloway had gotten off of his seat so fast it clattered backward. "Gentlemen! Get off of each other!"

Johnny grabbed at Bif's fist, but Bif used his other to drive it right into Johnny's face. He yelped, barely managing to put his hands up in front of his face before Bif hit him again. Galloway ran over, pushing through the ring of students that were rallying on the fight. He gripped the collar of Bif's shirt, yanking him off of Johnny.

Johnny jumped up to his feet, going over to Derby, who had removed himself to a corner to nurse his bleeding nose. Galloway frowned, holding onto Bif's collar so tight that he had to stand on his tiptoes to be able to even breath. "Vincent! If you lay another hand on your fellow student, you will regret it." Mr. Galloway said sternly.

Bif frowned. "Yeah, you dirty pau- aahhh!" Galloway yanked hard on Bif's collar.

Johnny took a step towards Derby. Derby just sneered at him, still holding his nose. "What?" His voice was nasally; it sounded odd with his accent. "Going to punch me again? Go again. It'll make your boyfriend proud."

Johnny yelled, lunging for Derby again. He was stopped by something grabbing his jacket, jerking him backwards, _hard_. He fell right on his ass, and a foot came down on his chest, pinning him to the ground. Johnny wheezed, gripping the foot, and looking up.

Staring down at him was a very angry looking Seth Kolbe. Johnny paled. "You're done for, evil doer!" He grabbed Johnny's ear, wrenching him up. "Thankfully, we heard the commotion from the hallway. No you're going to get it!"

"Ow, ow, watch it!" Johnny whined, staggering quickly to his feet so his ear wouldn't be pulled off.

"You're going down to the office. I hope you like week-long detentions," Kolbe barked, whirling around. Johnny yelled in pain, stumbling forward. Johnny spotted Bif Tremblay being dragged off by the other prefect, Edward. Of course, Derby wasn't going to get in trouble. Kolbe started to drag him off, and Johnny shot a glare over his shoulder at Derby, who looked absolutely smug for someone who had blood all over their clothes.

"Tell your boyfriend I said 'Hello'," Derby crooned softly.

Johnny's glared. "Fuck you, Harrington!"

Kolbe tugged on his ear, hard. "Let's go, stop talkin' and start walkin'!" Johnny frowned, grumbling darkly under his breath as he was yanked along. The day was growing worse as it grew longer, and he hoped there would finally be a reprieve to his bad luck. He didn't know how much of this he could survive.

---

It was amazing how silent the car garage could become under the right circumstances. The ingredients were simple: throw in a pinch of Lola Lombardi, a sprinkle of Johnny Vincent, a dash of flowers, and a whole lot of awkward, and if you bake it for less than a few seconds of eye contact, it made for a delicious serving of heavy, horrible silence.

Lola just stared at the flowers, a bit dumbfounded. She slowly chewed on her gum, leaning back against the shelf. Her eyes went from the flowers, then up to Johnny. Her whole face was blank, almost callous. "Are these for me?" Her voice hinted at nothing, and Johnny shifted uncomfortably, feeling the heavy stares of his peers bore into the back of his head.

"Yeah," Johnny said gruffly, taking in a deep breath so that his chest stuck out. He needed to keep that air of manliness around himself. The last thing he wanted was to be reduced to a pile of muck in Lola's hands in front of everyone. "They're for you."

Lola straightened, crossing her arms over her cleavage. She raised an eyebrow at Johnny, looking up at him. "Excuse me?"

Johnny flushed, looking at his feet. Well, his plans never seemed to work, anyway. "I'm sorry, Lola." He pushed the flowers forward. "I got these, hopin' you'd forgive me and take me back?" Somewhere in the back he heard somebody make a disgusted noise from the back of their throats, and his cheeks burned red. If only they knew what a woman could make you do; then, they would understand.

Lola smiled, her arms uncrossing. Johnny exhaled, his shoulders drooping. "Of course, Johnny!" She took the flowers, sniffing them quickly before she threw her arms around Johnny in a hug. He hugged her back tightly, hands settling on her waist as she pulled away from the embrace. "'Course, I don't fully forgive you, but I guess we can work it out, right?" Lola said, batting those thick eyelashes of hers.

Johnny nodded. "Uh-huh." He leaned in for a kiss, his eyes closing, and met Lola's hand. He flushed, pulling his face away to the light chuckling of the other greasers.

"Nuh-uh, Johnny Vincent," Lola said with a smirk, wagging her finger at her boyfriend. "You gotta be makin' up to me before you can make out with me." She pulled away from his limp grip, her hands on her hips. "You know I ain't that kinda girl."

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know what ya mean. Sorry."

Lola smiled. "That's okay, Johnny. You can just make it up to me by takin' me out shoppin' tomorrow, after I get my nails done," she said smoothly, and Johnny faked a smile as someone under one of the cars laughed, banging around so that it would muffle their amusement.

"Okay, Lola," Johnny said softly, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Lola beamed. "Good! I'll see ya later, Johnny!" She turned, waving quickly at him before walking out of the garage with her flowers. Johnny sighed, looking at his feet, and wiggling the toes in the sandal. It was the only thing he could focus on right now to get his mind off of the sinking feeling in his stomach. He was made into an idiot in front of all of his friends…

But Johnny _needed_ Lola, and she needed him. Everything worked out in the end. He said nothing to the other greasers, just leaving the same way he had entered. They wouldn't understand. Lola was his girl. He needed somebody to take care of, somebody to make him feel important, and loved. None of them knew what love was like. But Johnny Vincent? Johnny Vincent knew the true definition of love: Lar- Lola Lombardi.

'_I need Lola, I do…' _That's what he told himself at the muffled chuckles that floated from the garage.

----

"So, Larry," Tad said casually, though the smirk spoke wonders of why he was really sparking up conversation with Peanut. He threaded his fingers together, leaning forward in his desk. "How's Lombardi been recently? I haven't seen her since her and Gord's shopping expedition."

Peanut's brow furrowed, and his knuckles turned white around his pencil. Tad let out a good-natured chuckle. He had finished his test early, and was free to go; but the chance of tormenting Peanut- who was dawdling with the written responses- was too good to pass up. Their rivalry was something akin to Johnny and Derby's, but much less elegant. It was all about low blows since the first day of school, when Peanut had the audacity to bump into Tad. Tad had commented on the extremely obvious, and their mutual hatred was shared since. "I suppose I should get ready for her appearance any day now. After those spats she always has with Vincent, she'll cling to the first person who will provide her money and a good f-"

Peanut slammed his pencil down on the desk, glaring murderously at Tad. "You know what, Spencer, why don't you just shut your inbred mouth?"

Tad frowned. Not a battle fitting of a high-class elite, but the nasty words always made it more exciting and feral. There was no thinking in the insults, just schoolyard hatred. "Larry," Peanut's frown deepened. (Johnny was the only one that called him Larry; he was the only person he was comfortable talking so bluntly with.) Tad just loved to let his real name roll off of his tongue, disregarding the nickname he had given him. Irony never tasted so bitter. "Your words wound me so. Aren't I stating the obvious?"

Peanut's eyes narrowed, and he turned his face away from Tad before he gave anything else away. He roughly grabbed his pencil, pushing from his desk. Hattrick looked up quietly from his grading as he stomped forward, messily placing the question and answer sheet where they belonged. He was one of the last people, save a few jocks that straggled behind. "Finally finished. Move along, Romano," Hattrick said gruffly, looking back down at his book.

He missed how Peanut rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. Can't wait to get the hell outta here…"

Hattrick looked up, his face coloring. "Young man! I should give you detention for such impudence!" His booming voice suddenly fell, and he planted a fake smile on his face, concentrating on the spot beyond Peanut's head. "Have a good day, Mr. Spencer."

Peanut made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes, and turning sharply toward the door. If the new Rolexes during test time didn't cue anybody off, his uncharacteristically nice behavior told anyone loud and clear that Mr. Hattrick was a dirty teacher. If only he had enough money, he'd be paying off every one of the teachers. Instead, he'd have to flounder around and pray to all that was holy he would pass Geometry this year.

He pushed through, letting the door bang loudly behind him. There was barely anybody else in the hallways; just some nerds, the bullies that loved to torment them, and the brown-nosing little kids. Classes were over, and everybody else had fled outside to enjoy the warm weather. Peanut straightened his coat, pushing noisily through the double doors that lead outside. He squinted as the bright sunlight hit his eyes, taking the steps down two at a time.

The sound of light footsteps behind him made his shoulders stiffen, and he glared at the ground, veering left, and heading towards the garage - but the footsteps continued to dog him.

"What the hell do you want, Spencer?"

Tad chuckled. "We never finished our conversation, Larry!" Peanut glowered at the ground. "About Lola Lombardi. You became so furious when I mentioned her, but everybody knows about your crush on her." Tad paused, then laughed loudly. "Or, maybe Gord said it was Johnny Vincent you had a crush on?"

Peanut stopped walking, and Tad continued on, not looking back. "It's so obvious. Like Bif and Derby, but twice as… brutish. Too bad Vincent isn't like that. No, he'd rather have a ride on the STD machine," he said, chuckling.

Spencer turned to look at Peanut, grinning. He barely let out a gasp before Peanut's fist collided with his nose, and the other into his stomach. Tad yelped, wheezing and doubling over, staggering to his knees. Peanut swiftly lifted his leg up, kicking him in his shoulder. Tad yelled, clutching his bleeding nose as he fell down on the hard ground.

"Everybody thinks," Peanut snarled harshly, his fists shaking, "That they can push me around. Kid named Peanut can't do shit, right?" Tad sat up, but Peanut quickly walked up, placing his boot on Tad's chest, and slamming him back down. Tad yelled in pain, wincing, and clutching his nose. "Well, I'm not doing it anymore. I'm going to stand up for myself-"

"Charming, really, Larry," Tad hissed painfully, grabbing Peanut's leg, and jerking. But his foot didn't move, instead grounding into his chest even more. Tad let out a small wheeze, his eyes widening.

Peanut smirked triumphantly, grinding his heel a bit more. Tad let out a pained whine, grabbing his foot. "Larry!"

"It's _Peanut_." Peanut snapped quickly, pointing a finger at him. "Peanut. Got that? You're not Johnny-fucking-Vincent, you're just a stupid rich kid who likes to stare at other guy's crotches. It's_Peanut_."

"Okay!" Tad nearly whined. "Just stop… I think you're going to _break_ something, you dredge!"

Peanut laughed. He titled his head back, eyeing Tad dramatically. Tad's eyes widened, and he started to struggle. "Don't you dare, you filthy-!"

Peanut cleared his throat loudly, pausing for dramatic buildup. When Tad slipped slightly from under his foot, Peanut let it go, spitting in his face. Tad howled, and Peanut let out a short, barking laugh, lifting his foot off of Tad, and turning. The sound of his grumbles and whimpers hit his ears, and he grinned.

Inside, he felt_ terrible_.

Didn't Johnny always say this was the best way to relieve stress? Beat the snot out of some rich kid? It seemed plausible enough. He really did hate that inbred bastard to the core, every single part of him for giving him such a horrible nickname. Peanut had humiliated Tad numerous times, with Johnny and without, and each time he left feeling happier and proud. Why did he regret it now?

Peanut stopped, sighing raggedly. _'Maybe I _am _a queer…'_ He turned around, his eyes on Tad. Tad had sat up, still holding his nose, his other hand vainly trying to dust off the dark footprint on his Aquaberry vest. He glanced up, his eyes caught with Peanut's. He frowned darkly. "Oh, come to spit on me again, you dirty pauper?"

Peanut said nothing, approaching closer. When Tad was sure he was in arm's reach, he flinched. Nothing came. He looked up at Peanut, and then at his outstretched arm. His eyes narrowed. "Is this a trick?"

"No, you elitist asshole. Just take my hand, will ya? You're a mess."

Tad paused, considering it. Very reluctantly, he took his hand. He was too confused and hurt at the moment to really think it through; he was touching an _oil slick's hand_, for God's sake, but to his surprise Peanut's grip on his hand tightened. He pulled him up, and Tad stumbled ungracefully to his feet, eyeing Peanut like he had grown an extra head.

"What new sort of drug are you smoking now a days, grease ball? Because you're_obviously_ disorientated with your clique orientation."

Peanut snorted. "I still hate your fuckin' guts. But…" he paused, scuffing his shoe on the ground and looking away, "You look pretty pitiful on the ground. Besides, you're not worth the anger."

Tad sniffed, dusting himself off. "Not worth it? You've got a terrible sense of worth. I'll let you know, my father's company is worth-"

"No." Peanut turned away, starting to walk towards the large front gates that would lead him away from this place. "I've got a perfect sense of worth. I know that you aren't worth my time, 'cause it's not like it will change what you did. Lola isn't worth Johnny, 'cause we all know she's done everybody on campus already. I _know _what things are worth."

"Maybe you should become a businessman, Romano," Tad said sarcastically, watching him leave. He touched his nose, wincing at the blood that stained his fingers red. Peanut shrugged, saying nothing else as he kept on walking. Tad frowned. "Don't think you've won this, Peanut!"

Larry didn't reply as he hunched his shoulders, and sped up his walk. He needed to find Johnny.


	5. Listen

**Chapter 5: Listen**

Author's Note: Thanks to Airenko for betaing.**  
**

**---**

The ring of the bell wasn't noticed as Peanut roughly pushed through the door, not looking back as it swung shut hard. A few patrons looked up, but most didn't even separate themselves from their alcohol. The only person who continued to stare after a curious glance was Johnny Vincent. Peanut paused in the middle of the bar, staring right back; Johnny snorted, looking away, and pressing his cigarette to his lips.

"'Ey!" Peanut looked over at the bartender, who was gesturing at him wildly with a rag. He squinted his eyes, chewing on his lip. "Don't stand in the middle of th' place. Take a seat."

Peanut said nothing, scowling and walking towards Johnny. Johnny hunched his shoulders, pointedly staring straight ahead. He didn't move when the bar stool next to him scraped against the ground, and Peanut sat on it, looking over at Johnny. Johnny frowned when Peanut's eyes fell on him, still staring icily at the bottles of alcohol lined up behind the bar.

"Hey," Peanut said blankly, at a loss for words. Johnny's eyes narrowed, and he roughly blew smoke out of his nose; the hand not around his drink tapping the bar in irritation. Peanut scratched his chin, leaving over the bar and glancing over at Johnny, "You, uh-"

"What would you like?" The bartender asked brashly, not batting an eye as he butted right into the delicate beginnings of conversation Peanut was trying to start. It ripped like thin lace, and Peanut frowned, trying to ignore the nasty fluid that was dripping from the man's nose ring. "T'drink, y'know?"

Peanut sighed, resting his head on his hand. "Same as he has."

The bartender nodded, fetching his drink. Peanut stole a glance over at Johnny; he was still glaring over at the bottles, and Peanut was surprised they hadn't shattered into a shower of glass and vodka. His attention was snapped away at the clunk in front of him. He looked at his beer blankly, wrapping his fingers around the neck of the bottle.

He looked over at Johnny. Still, Peanut was given the cold shoulder, and with a slight sideways jerk of his body he managed to scoot his barstool closer. Johnny flinched ever so slightly, pulling his cig from his mouth and tapping the ashes into the ashtray. Peanut quietly took a sip of his drink, grimacing at the taste.

"So…" Peanut ventured, twirling the bottle in his hands. Johnny said nothing. He forged on: "I see your foot's alright."

He was still wearing his sock and sandal combination, the wrapping bulky under his sock. Johnny's toes curled slightly, and that was the only cue Peanut got from Johnny that he was paying him any attention at all. Peanut readjusted the grip on his slick beer bottle, staring hard at it. He wasn't used to this, and it was unnerving. "I'm glad it's better. You looked like you were in a lot of pain this morning."

That got Johnny moving. He peeled his eyes away from the glasses, glaring murderously at Peanut. Peanut glanced up quickly, and then back down at his drink, picking at the label nervously. He was skittish under Johnny's harsh stare. "I-I wanted to help you, but…"

Johnny made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, hunching over the bar and resuming his staring contest with the bottles. Peanut sighed, "You kinda… yelled at me to go away." He finished quietly, not mentioning the sobbing he had heard when he was fleeing Johnny's room. He was curious, in a morbid way, on how Johnny would react to his find; would he vehemently deny it, or break down and confess his true love? Peanut wrinkled his nose. He would probably just punch him in the face and leave. Besides, the crying was probably over the piece of ceramic wedged into the fleshy sole of his foot. There was no other ulterior motive other than pain.

The bottle in Peanut's hand seemed to empty of itself of it's own accord, and he found himself with a refill just as suddenly. He blinked at it, surprised, before casting a quick glance at Johnny. He hadn't fled, though he was so quiet it was like he wasn't really there. Johnny's cigarette was smoldering in the ashtray, and his hand was wrapped tight around his beer. Even though it looked like this was the last place he wanted to be, he hadn't moved an inch. He was stone cold, and the only indication that Johnny was still alive was when he took a sip of his drink.

"You're my best friend, Johnny…" Peanut said suddenly, staring intently at Johnny. He flinched, but didn't look over at Peanut. "You know that, right? 'Cause I don't want…" He was struggling for words. "I don't want you to, y'know, _leave me_."

Peanut flushed, and looked away. "U-uhm, not like that, but I don't want you to stop being my friend just because of one little incident… One big incident." Johnny didn't need to talk; Peanut was keeping up both ends of conversation pretty well. "Okay, a really big incident. But, compared to some of the stuff we've been through, this is nothing. Remember after the rumble and Hopkins somehow beat you up?"

Johnny's eyes slid closed in thought.

"And," Peanut ventured on, carefully eyeing Johnny's face for reactions, "I took you home… you were groaning and moaning, 'cause that stupid kid hit you with a bunch of fire crackers. And I carried you for about four blocks, remember?"

Johnny was silent. He pursed his lips around cigarette, pretending not to hear Peanut. But he was hanging off every word. Peanut frowned, looking sadly at Johnny.

"I don't really know why you don't like the idea so much…" Peanut shifted uncomfortably, leaning with both arms against the bar. "I mean, I do everything she does, and then some. You know that, I do everything for you, everything I can and then some. I'd… I'd never do any of that stuff she did to you. Never."

Johnny frowned, staring at the wood table and tapping his ashes off into the ashtray. Peanut watched him, his eyes following as the cigarette was put back into his mouth. "I don't know. Why do you like her anyway, Johnny?" he asked honestly, leaning towards him slightly. Johnny blinked, looking over at Peanut, shocked by his bluntness. "'Cause sometimes I think that you'd rather be miserable instead of happy."

Johnny still kept up his vow of silence, though he looked more perturbed than before. "Maybe it's 'cause I'm not a chick." Peanut continued, "I don't have tits, yeah… but…"

"What?" Johnny interjected dryly, staring down at the bar. He ignored Peanut's startled look. "You gonna get a sex change for me, Larry?"

"I'd be willing, Johnny, you sure as hell know, but I don't got the money or the will to grow my own set of jugs," Peanut replied dully, sighing and resting his head on his hand. Johnny shook his head, in amusement or pity, he really didn't know. They both fell into silence, and nobody said a word until Johnny's empty glass clinked against the bar and the bartender fetched him a new bottle.

"So, that's it?" Peanut said softly. Johnny concentrated on his beer, holding the neck tightly in his hands. "After all this, our whole friendship, it's just…. Done."

Johnny laughed dryly, and Peanut winced at the sound. "What am I supposed to do, Larry? Forget it all happened and pretend we're just best friends forever again?" The amount of bitterness in his voice was overwhelming, and Peanut grimaced.

Peanut gazed at the table, feeling like if he tried hard enough, it would swallow him up and end him right there. "Was it really that bad?" Peanut's voice cracked slightly, and he ignored it, prodding at a pattern in the wood that looked like a face. The only sign that Johnny noticed was the slight wrinkling of his nose. "Was I really that horrible? I know Lola is pretty sexy, would she have been better? 'Cause I know I'm not the best, but I tried, Johnny. And you liked it, you seemed to like it, and even if I'm not the best of partners we could still date, maybe? You know I don't cheat and I'd do whatever you want, you know-"

"Larry!" Johnny snapped, stopping his rambling. Peanut let out the tiniest of sniffs, looking blithely away from Johnny. Johnny grit his teeth, willing at him to look over, but he refused to turn his head. Johnny knocked back the rest of his beer. "I… I'm not gay, Larry. I wouldn't know."

"Oh. _Oh_. 'Course not. Figures." Peanut's voice wavered, and he roughly wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Figures…"

Johnny frowned, looking over at him. "Larry?"

Peanut let out a little hiccupping sniffle, looking up at Johnny, eyes red. Johnny balked. He was crying. "_What_?"

"Larry… You're not…"

"Yeah, I_am_," he said harshly, his voice wavering, taking in a short, shallow breath. "But I bet you wouldn't know how that's like, since Lola's never cried over you even once. God damn it, Johnny." Peanut wiped furiously at his eyes, angry at Johnny, angry at his weakness, angry at the world. "God damn it…"

"You can't blame me…" Johnny said, glaring at Peanut; it was more desperate than angry. "You can't…"

"Yes I can! It's all your fault… you just… you're such a bastard…" Peanut hiccupped, sniffling. He was quickly dissolving into tears, and his face burnt red with shame and anger. "Y-you… y-you're so stupid, s-so…" He took in a sharp breath. "Stupid…" Johnny pushed his beer aside, turning his body to face Peanut. He leaned forward, and Peanut flinched away, roughly rubbing his face with the sleeve of his coat. His whole body shuddered, and Peanut took in a few quick breaths, struggling for air in the clouded bar. "So stupid…"

"Larry…" Johnny looked as if he was about to reach out to Peanut. He extended a hand, and it wavered in the air before retreating back to his side.

Peanut shook his head slowly, biting his bottom lip, and squeezing his eyes shut tightly. His hands shook as he grabbed his wallet, taking out an indiscriminate amount of bills, and throwing them at him. "There," he said harshly, jumping from his barstool. His face was red and streaked with tears. His eyes were bright, tiny shards of broken glass reflecting the dim light. "That should pay for everything. More than enough." He turned to leave, brushing past Johnny. He was jerked to a stop by the rough grip on his wrist, and Peanut twisted around, glaring at Johnny.

Johnny frowned. "Where are you going?"

Peanut pulled, flinching as Johnny's grip became painfully tight. He took in a deep breath, shutting his eyes tightly, and speaking with controlled precision: "Back to Bullworth… I…I can't stand it anymore, Johnny, I can't be next to you."

"It's not my fault," Johnny said tensely, gritting his teeth. His grip tightened, and Peanut's jaw tightened noticeably. "I still wanna be friends, but… It's not my _fault_. Not my fault you're… you're that _way_."

Peanut suddenly wrenched away from his grasp, turning sharply and pushing Johnny backward. He cried out as his lower back hit the edge of the bar. Peanut pinned him there, the glasses and bottles pushed away, and falling to the ground with a shatter. The whole bar quieted. Peanut dug his fingers into Johnny's thin shirt, and he leaned forward, their noses nearly touching.

"That_way_? That I care about you?" His voice was harsh as it could be, but it still wavered with that tone of uncertainty; his eyes were red from tears. "Of course, Johnny. It's never your fault. Never your fucking fault!" He suddenly let go of Johnny, repelling off of him like oil on water. Johnny stared wide-eyed at him, leaning forward and taking in a heavy breath as he gripped the spot where Peanut had dug his fingers. "You just stay with Lola, that fuckin' slut, go ahead! You don't know your own worth, Johnny."

"Hey!" The bartender yelled angrily from behind the bar, shaking his fist, "You little shit, get out! I don't want any troublemakers in my 'stablishment!"

Peanut glared, flicking the man off deftly as he turned on his heel. He strode out, pausing at the door and looking over his shoulder. "You could have it so much better," he said coldly, the door swinging behind him, bell ringing as the door closed.

Johnny peeled himself off the bar, jumping off. His feet hit the floor in a run, and he nearly tumbled on his face as the yells of the bartender faded fast behind his ears. He pushed through the door, not slowly his pace as he kept on. "Larry! Larry!"

He wasn't in sight. Johnny paused, looking around quickly. He whipped around, trotting backwards and cupping his hands around his face. "Larry!" His voice projected off against the houses, and a car alarm rang in the distance. There was no reply. Johnny swore, glaring around. "God damnit, Peanut!"

No reply, except the sound of a rat under his boot. Johnny swore, grabbing his hair and doubling over. "Fuck! Fuck…" He straightened, kicking a few stones roughly as he stormed through the empty street. "Larry, you son of a bitch…"

The car alarm howled in the distance, and a rat squeaked. "You son of a bitch…" His voice lost pitch, wavered, and faded into the dull void.

---

Peanut placed a hand up to his forehead, squinting and peering up at the old tenements. The morning light was unbearably bright, mockingly cheerful as it beamed in his face. He let out a long, drawn out sigh, scuffing his shoes against the road and looking down at his feet. It was his house, too, but he was feeling apprehensive going in. The last thing he needed right now were the guys digging at him for throwing a bitch fight last night with Johnny. (Though, would Johnny tell them anything? Probably not; like he said, he didn't want to end up like that kid named Istanbul or something.)

He could feel sweat pricking at his hairline from the heat. He was getting sticky in the heat, and his black jacket wasn't helping at all. It didn't take long for the heat to become unbearable, and he swallowed his pride and fear in favor of the sanctity of his last clean shirt. Hunching his shoulders, Peanut walked up to the door, letting himself in without a knock and closing the door loudly behind him. The bang echoed throughout the hallways, and Peanut looked around curiously. Nobody seemed to be home at the moment.

"Hello?" There was silence, and Peanut walked through the hallway, ducking his head into hallways and listening intently. Downstairs was barren, and his feet took him up the stairs.

Peanut stopped in his tracks at the sound of heavy footsteps from the fire escape ledge that led from one side of the second floor to the other. He walked over, stepping out and colliding right with a sweaty Lola Lombardi.

"Oof!" As an automatic reaction, Peanut grabbed Lola to keep her from falling after she nearly bounced off his chest; she giggled, and he quickly let her go, trying to keep down the horrified look; he just wanted to shoot her after all of this, everything she had caused and prevented. The heat had gotten to her too, and she had shed her leather jacket in favor of just a small tank top that bared too much for Peanut's eyes. She tugged at the strap idly, smiling up at Peanut.

"Hey, Larry," She was using _that voice_. Peanut looked away, his head lowered so she couldn't see the disgust on his face. Of course, she had gotten back with Johnny, but Lola was known to be rambunctious after a taste of 'singledom'. She relished getting back at Johnny in little ways to show that even though he brought the flowers, she led this show. What better way was to flirt with other group members? Usually Norton was her target, but Peanut would do. "How are ya?"

"Pretty good," Peanut said coolly, looking up with a smile, and running his hands through his hair. A master of disguise. "Hot out, ain't it?" The words leapt out of his mouth before he realized that, in Lola's mind, they would be twisted beyond their connotation; his fake smile wavered as she took a step towards him, placing a hand on his chest.

"Yeah, it _is_," she said with a wink. "You ought to take off that jacket, Larry." Peanut barely masked his frown. Usually Lola didn't take out her frustrations on him. (She could score better than Peanut.) It was confusing, to say the least, but he didn't have time to really think because her lithe body was suddenly pressed up against him, her round breasts against his chest. "I mean, you wouldn't want-"

Peanut stumbled backwards. Lola's mouth twitched into the tiniest frown. Peanut flashed her a meek smile, but it was full of teeth. "I was wondering where Johnny was."

Lola frowned, crossing her arms across her chest. "Figures." She had lost all flirtation in her voice. "Why you wanna know where he is, anyway? He's mad at you."

Peanut blinked. Now he knew why Lola had been hitting on him; right now, he was the worst enemy of Johnny. It would kill him if he heard that Larry Romano had been putting the moves on his queen. (_'Christ, she's the Derby of chicks.'­_) "'Cause… 'Cause I do," he said, trying to keep his calm.

Lola harrumphed, thrusting out her bottom lip. "Well, if ya really wanna know…" She trailed off, tapping a well-manicured finger against her arm. "I don't have a clue. I haven't seen him since… yesterday afternoon, when we hooked back up." Her eyes suddenly brightened, and she giggled. "Johnny gave me _flowers_."

Peanut finally let out the disgust and anger built up in him with a small '_tch_', and Lola's eyes narrowed. Even though it was quiet, she noticed it; it sounded like something that would come out of Pinky's mouth. She titled her head up, looking down at him past her nose. Like he mattered. She had the guy, and he was just…

Well, he was just Peanut.

"I bet Norton would have a clue," she went on, her tone icier, "I think he was hanging out wit' Johnny last night, doin' guy stuff."

"Thanks," Peanut said, turning sharply. He felt his heart clench in his chest, and the thought of having to be civil to her a moment more was killing him. "See ya."

--------

"Norton?" He wasn't that hard to find. Other than being the only teenager that easily reached six feet in height, he had taken refuge from the heat in the garage. While it wasn't the coolest, it was the best place to hide. And hide he needed to do; If that black eye was any indication, he had gotten the shit beaten out of himself recently. The big teenager looked up at Peanut, frowning immediately. Peanut inquisitively looked at the ice pack pressed up against his eye, but he had more pressing questions to ask. "Were you with Johnny last night?"

"Yeah," Norton sighed, pressing the ice pack against his eye. It was quickly melting under the harsh sun. "I was there with Johnny. Wouldn't have this eye if I wasn't." He removed the ice pack, showing off his badge from the battle. His eye was squinty, and there were a few dark red cuts on the background of dark bluish and black tints. He smiled lightly, pressing the ice pack back onto his sore eye, and wincing. "Fuckin' townies…"

"That looks harsh," Peanut murmured appreciatively. Those townies must have put up a fight to do anything to Norton; he was a beast, a huge fighter that could rival Russel in some aspects. It must have been a spectacle to have Norton taken like that. Maybe they had fought the whole clique? "And they fought pretty well?"

Norton frowned, snapping his tongue against his front teeth, making a slight clucking noise. "Shit, what do you think?"

"So, what happened to Johnny?"

Norton's frown deepened. "Dunno."

Peanut squinted. "Huh, why?" Norton looked away, and Peanut's eyes squeezed together in suspicion.

"'Cause, I… ah, I left the fight a little early," Norton mumbled. Peanut gaped.

"You…" Norton's eyebrows furrowed together, and Peanut managed to pick his jaw up off the floor so he could continue talking. "You ditched the fight?"

He winced. "Yeah, guess you could say it that way."

Peanut blinked, still in a state of shock. "No shit…" he murmured, running a hand through his hair. The silence only stretched a few seconds; Peanut snapped back to attention. "So, you left Johnny? You have no clue where he is?"

"Nope." Norton shrugged. "There was a bunch of them, an' that mean bastard Henry was there." He shook his head. "And I'll be damned fighting against him with only Vincent- who was sloshed- as my backup. I was truckin' it out of there soon as there was an opening in the circle."

Peanut frowned. "You didn't see if Johnny followed?"

Norton shrugged. "Sorry, Vincent's pretty damn tough. I wasn't really worrying 'bout him."

Peanut sighed, looking at the ground dejectedly, and scuffing his boot against the ground. Now he had no leads. For all he knew, Johnny could be rotting away in Blue Skies right now, still in an endless battle with the townies. "S'alright. Thanks anyway," he said gruffly. He turned very suddenly, hunching his shoulders. Anger was prickling in the back of his senses, and though he wanted to yell at Norton for leaving behind Johnny, he knew he couldn't. Besides, Johnny was all grown up; he could handle himself in a bad predicament, couldn't he?

Peanut walked away. Johnny and Norton had hung around last night after their talk- so that means they were in Blue Skies around midnight. Norton had ran soon after. And it was already noon, so twelve hours had past and there wasn't so much as a holler from Johnny. He wasn't the type to hole himself up when he licked his wounds. It was more characteristic of him to come to Peanut, or Lola, where he would be kissed better. (Figuratively for him, literally in Lola's case.)

Peanut felt his heart clench. Where was Johnny Vincent?

---

"I fucking hate those greaser shits. Bunch of nasty chain-smokers," Henry snarled, leaning against the bus stop sign. He shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes narrowed on the greasers that were just on the precipice of New Coventry. Oh, if they even took a step towards Blue Skies, he'd let them have it. Henry crossed his arms. He'd be damned to have any of those Bullworth punks even come in their territory; bunch of sissies. "You'll have to help me beat those shits if they come over," Henry grunted, not bothering to look back at either of the other townies to see if they agreed.

Jerry frowned lightly, looking over at Omar who just gave him a half-hearted shrug. There was no use fighting Henry; when he wanted to do something, he did it, and if it meant beating greasers or being so nasty that he made old ladies cry, then he did it. And if anybody tried to hold him back, he would just turn his frustrations towards them. It was easier to just indulge his mean streaks. "I think we should…" Jerry paused, squinting and leaning forward slightly. "Hey, just who is that?"

Henry looked over his shoulder. "What the fuck do I look like," he barked, "The school roll call? It's a greaser, that's all that matters, an' we should beat the shit outta him!"

Omar frowned over at him, walking forward and peering through the darkness. Nighttime in Blue Skies was like pea soup, but he had better vision than Henry. "I think… it's that one Ponyboy kid, and…" He blinked. "Johnny Vincent."

Jerry's eyes widened, and he took a few steps forward, glaring over in the direction of the two. "Johnny Vincent," he spat the name out, "Asshole."

Henry chuckled, leering over at Jerry, "He the one who caught you with his girl, didn't he?"

"Yeah." Jerry rubbed his jaw, glaring towards the nondescript shapes in the distance. "Punched me in my jaw."

Henry let out another snicker, not caring about the sour looks that he was getting.

"Why don't we rip that little shit a new one, then?" He turned back to Johnny and Norton. One of them- the shorter one, he couldn't differentiate between the two in the dark- stumbled, and the taller caught him. "Can't be too hard."

"You've never fought against them, have you?" Jerry commented haughtily, "I'm a pretty damn good fighter, but Norton and Johnny? Norton's a fuckin' bear, man. And Johnny doesn't have a bad arm when he isn't freaking out over his slut."

Henry scowled, cracking his knuckles. "I think you're just afraid. Omar?"

Omar shrugged. He could take down Johnny easily enough by himself, but with Norton? That was a wildcard. He was nearly as tall as that dumb, rich Russel kid, and just as bulky. Plus, he was much smarter, and that meant he could actually formulate a plan other than, 'SMASH.' "I guess I could take them on," he said unenthusiastically. Henry frowned.

"Oh, come on." And the shorter one stumbled again, swaying a bit. Henry grinned. "It shouldn't be that hard. Look at that one."

Jerry shoved his hands into his pockets, walking next to Henry and smirking. "I think someone's tipsy." Jerry shot a glance at Henry; he was focused on the two, holding rapt attention. He then threw a glance over his shoulder at Omar. Omar gave him a half-hearted shrug. Jerry grinned. "Easy shot, right?"

Henry cracked his knuckles. "A piece of cake."

Norton didn't notice them until they were much too close for his liking. Johnny was talking so loud that he hadn't heard their approach until they were less than a yard away.

"And then… you know, best friends, Norton?" Johnny slurred angrily, stabbing his un-bandaged foot into the ground. "They're buncha shit! Hate 'em. Never want one again, nuh-uh-"

"Johnny." Norton held a hand up, silencing Johnny. He wouldn't have done that in any normal situation- Johnny would kick his ass- but he had been blathering on about best friend troubles for the past thirty minutes and the sound of boots scuffing against the ground had finally reached his ears. He turned around slowly, trying to look casual. "We've got company."

Johnny growled, clenching his fists. "Townies. Fuck Townies."

Norton frowned, "Johnny?"

Johnny took a step forward, then gasped. He was disorientated, and the ground was slippery under his stumbling feet. Norton looked over him, his eyes wide. He knew it; Johnny was too drunk to fight himself out of a wet paper bag at the moment, and while he had enough anger to take on one of the weaker townies, Omar, Henry, and Jerry together were a force that couldn't be stopped.

"Johnny, god damnit," he hissed under his breath, and Johnny looked up at him; almost looking sorry. Norton felt Johnny's shoulder bump into his, and he stood solid as Johnny stumbled sloppily over his shoes.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled as the townies broke out in peals of laughter - like vultures crowing over their prey. Norton turned around sharply. The townies had made a half circle around them.

Henry cracked his knuckles. "Hey, sloppy Sally, stop falling over ya girlfriend."

Johnny frowned, his face distorted in a comical matter. "_Hey_." Norton knew he should cover Johnny's mouth. His temper was nasty and Henry could match it. The match would spark, light the bomb, and it would all explode in a matter of seconds. "Shut the fuck up, you… fuckin' fucktard." Norton would have rolled his eyes at the sad comeback if he weren't depending on Johnny to back him up.

The townies chuckled, especially Henry. "Nice comeback."

Jerry leered, "Not half as good as your girlfriend's ass, though."

Johnny roared and lunged. (It didn't even make sense; it was a lousy insult, but he didn't care, he needed to let out his anger and frustration.) He tackled Jerry clean over, and they rolled around on the ground, somersaulting over at least twice. Norton yelled something that Johnny didn't care about as he clawed wildly at Jerry. Everything was painfully slow, except for Jerry; he was exceptionally fast, and his punches kept coming and coming. The first couple he managed to block by covering his face, but his arms flailed out at the wrong time.

Jerry's knuckles connected to his nose, and fireworks burst in front of his eyes. Everything suddenly sped up, and they were in normal time once more as another punch succeeded in its course.

"Agh-!" Jerry clambered off of Johnny, who cradled his bleeding nose. There was a sneering noise from behind and suddenly a foot connected to his ribcage, knocking the breath out of him. Johnny wheezed and tried to sit up, looking over at Norton.

All he could see was the back of him.

Because he was running _away_.

"Norton!" The pounding to his ribs cut his holler short, and he staggered to his knees. But he was quickly shot down by the two sneering townies, their boots connecting to his side. "Nor-" The air escaped from his lungs, and one boot connected with his head. Everything went dark.

---

I'm sorry that this took so long! The next chapter should be coming much sooner, since I have about five thousand words of it done, but you never know. Well, I hope you liked this chapter, and if you have the time please review; just a few words of critique make the next chapter come sooner.


	6. Welcome to Happy Volts

**Chapter 6: **Welcome to Happy Volts

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of the people who have either faved this or put it on alert, and double thanks to all of the reviewers! Happy to say that this chapter is finally out after a whole month- sad to say that none of you may like it. Well, c'est la vie.

Also, a note- please notice the times before each section of the chapter. If you don't, you're going to be confused. And, another note, this was not beta'd. Kinda just wanted to get this out there.

* * *

**Two Weeks After**

Johnny could hear his breath. That was the first thing that entered his mind that he really recognized, even though he had been awake for hours. The first thought that entered his mind, though fuzzy and nonsensical, was: _'I can breathe.' _ He took in a deep gulp of air, coughing, feeling mucous rattle in his chest.

His eyes wandered up, over to the stained walls, looking around for something interesting to look at. There was nothing. All of the walls were the same. The floor matched the walls. And the door matched that, though there was a small hole that was covered mostly by thick iron bars. Dim light filtered in, but there was nothing of interest that moved past those bars.

His conscience was slowly coming back, his thoughts muggy and messy in his head. Johnny blinked slowly, taking in soft, shallow breaths, ignoring the conspicuous rattle he made every time air swooshed into his lungs. He shut his eyes suddenly, coughing hard into the air.

His eyes snapped open. The first thing he realized was that he was hunched down, his hands pressed flat against the ground. He looked at his hands, closing them slowly, his knuckles scraping against the ground. They shook, and he murmured in surprise, stopping the movement. _'What's… wrong with me?'_ Johnny blinked, closing his eyes tightly and shaking his head slowly. _'Where…' _He was too far removed to be afraid; all he could feel was a foggy sort of curiosity, just wondering why he was crouched down on a dirty floor like an animal in a room he had never seen before.

A shiver hit Johnny's spine as a scream rang through from the next-door over. His head jerked up, and he looked around, his eyes focusing on somebody moving past his door. He couldn't really focus on the face beyond the bars, but he noticed the white flash of teeth, and the empty syringe in their hands shone in the dim light.

_Syringe_.

Panic and fear shot through him like a bullet. Johnny let out a sudden low, pained whine, uncomprehending _why_ but knowing that there was something to fear. He fell back onto his backside, scuttling backwards towards the wall with the sudden surge of strength. He didn't take his eyes away from the window; the threat was gone, but it still loomed, as loud and real as the heart that was pounding wildly in his ears. He didn't stop panicking until he felt the soft walls touch his back, some sort of protection against the mean men and the horrible medicines. His hands pawed back at the walls weakly, shaking.

His fingers felt light indents, and he turned, looking over at the marks on the wall. Carved crudely into the soft white padding was the word _'Days'_, and underneath were numerous hatch marks. Fifteen marks, and he ran over each of them with his fingers, his face twisting into thought.

He suddenly pulled his hand away like it had been bitten, his eyes going wide. _'Fifteen days.' _ Johnny's head fell down, chin touching his chest. _'They… they brought me here.' _He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth and snarling.

* * *

**That Day**

"Guunhh…" There were arms under his armpits, grabbing him and holding him up. His boots scraped against the ground as he was carried. His bad foot bent awkwardly, and bumped into something; pain shot up his leg, and he let out another groan. And then he was set down on something, a pillow stuffed under his head. Johnny's eyes fluttered open, the whole word a nauseating spin of colors and shapes. He groaned, raising a hand limply to his forehead and closing his eyes shut. "Wh…what the hell happened…?"

"Fuck, he's awake." A masculine voice growled from the side. Johnny's eyes snapped open, and he sat up, looking around.

An arm, thick and hairy shot out from the side, grabbing his arm and shoving him hard back down against the ground. Johnny yelled, tensing as the heavy-set man leered over him, a large needle in his hand. He was kneeling on the padded floor, the broad fingers digging into Johnny' shoulder.

Johnny's eyes darted around. They were obviously in a car, because the big double doors that lead out of the padded cage lead to some dark street of Blue Skies Industrial. The man moved closer, and Johnny grit his teeth. "Who the hell are you?"

The man titled his head at Johnny, giving him a curious look. The guy was at least in his thirties, with dark black hair and a grizzly beard and mustache. He grinned, flashing yellowed teeth at Johnny. Lifting his hand from Johnny's arm, he tapped his laminated nametag, his name scrawled messily on it. "My name is-"

Johnny punched the man's face, and he fell back against the padded floor, the syringe falling. There was a commotion from the front of the truck from the man's scream, but Johnny didn't turn around, his heart surging with fear. He stumbled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his ribs as he ran towards the door.

"No you don't!" A voice yelled, and Johnny yelped as he ran right into another beefy arm. It caught him in the stomach, knocking all of the wind out of him as he doubled over and fell onto his hands and knees, his body jolting from the hard pavement suddenly hitting him.

A man, younger looking than the other but twice as fat loomed over him with a maniac grin. "So, those snot-nosed brats were right about you, being pretty crazy, trying to beat an orderly of Happy Volts Asylum."

Johnny's eyes went wide. "Happy Volts…?" He wheezed.

"Yeah. We saw what happened between you and those other kids. You're getting locked up, kid- we need to _fix_ you." Johnny had only just noticed the needle in the man's hand, and he suddenly tackled Johnny, trying to stab the point into his skin. Johnny started flailing about, growling. A hand connected, and the man grunted, the grip on him loosening. He bucked the heavy man off, scrambling up to his feet.

"Fuck you crazy bastards!" Johnny's voice wavered, and he looked around wildly, whipping his head around. Adrenaline was rushing his system and he couldn't think straight- his legs were moving and he took off, away from the truck and the man and the fear that was pounding, pounding in his skull.

He just had to get away- it didn't matter where, it didn't matter how, but it was flee or fight and he was not going to fight against a bunch of huge asylum orderlies ready to take him down.

Something smacked him in the back of the neck, and he stumbled, falling to his knees. "Fuck-" And then it hits him. There's a sharp, painful feeling and then all of his nerves are coated over, with something thick, and he can't even feel the rough gravel under his fingertips. It's total numbness, and it crashes over him in a sudden wave, catching him off-guard.

"Fuck." He reached back- the simple motion is hard because everything seems to slow down, but he manages to stretch and he fumbles with the dart, fingers slipping. "Fuck…"

There were hands under his armpits, hauling him up again, and his mind goes completely numb.

* * *

**Three Days After**

The needle slid from his arm, making Johnny shudder and close his eyes tightly. He had never liked needles, especially how these were filled with sedatives and God knows what. Though all he wanted to do was strangle the man that held his arm still, he would behave for the orderly now. It was all one big misunderstanding. It would eventually be cleared up, and he would be sent back to Bullworth.

Surely, his dad could attest for his sanity. (Even though he was in jail.) And his mother could, too. (Even if she was currently away living with his grandmother, trying to get off of the bottle.) He was _sane_, he just cared a little too much about a girl and beat up the wrong people. It was no big deal. He tried to tell the orderlies by yelling and trying to beat the living shit out of them. Obviously, his violence proved his sanity.

This was his third day. While the medicine was slowly wearing on him, and the nights seem to stretch on longer, he could deal with it for at least a few weeks; plenty of time for somebody to bail him out of Happy Volts Asylum. Plenty of people could attest for his sanity.

Johnny glared furiously as the man held him, pulling his arms around by the long sleeves. Johnny jerked his arms, but the tight grip on his arms pulled them back into an aggravating position- one arm over the other, fingertips feeling the bottom of his ribs. It made him feel oddly vulnerable without the use of his arms. He shook his head slowly, blinking. The muscles in his arms ached slightly. "You haffta do this? What'd I do?" His tongue was slow, and his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to focus on the words.

The orderly said nothing, pressing uncomfortably close. He took the hooks on his long sleeves, tugging and hooking it around the stainless steel buttons he hadn't noticed before on the front of his shirt. Johnny stared numbly at them as the orderly started to hook other snaps and buttons that were on the back of his shirt, the pull on his arms becoming tighter and tighter. "These are pretty old," The orderly said gruffly, and Johnny hissed as his arms were suddenly forced back further, and he dug his fingers into his sides. The orderly took a small step backwards, one iron hand still on Johnny's shoulder as he checked over his work. "But, you have a visitor from that school of yours to deliver some of your personal items," The man scoffed, "Not like you'll need them."

"Visitor?" Johnny felt his stomach churn at the thought. A visitor? His mind reeled; who would visit him? "Is it Lola? Oh, God, no, she can't be here! Can't let her see me like this, not like…" The orderly was nearly about to berate him for his rambling, but there was a small beep and the soothing voice over the intercom rang through Johnny's room.

"Dan, please make sure the patient is ready for his visitor. We're buzzing him in."

"Sure thing." Dan gripped Johnny's shoulder tightly, grabbing the other arm with his free hand. He pushed the boy forward, and Johnny stumbled along, frowning. The orderly pushed the door open, forcing Johnny forward and through the door. "You better behave. We don't usually allow new patients to have visitors, but…" He leaded Johnny forward, past screaming, yelling patients that clawed at the bars of their cage. Johnny shuddered, gazing at them with wide eyes. He'd never be like that, no matter how long they kept him in here. The orderly never seemed to notice, and Dan pushed him along, finally leading him into a small empty room, save for two chairs. On the opposite side was another door.

"Sit." Dan said gruffly, forcing Johnny into one of the chairs. His arms were behind his back, and left him little room to sit. He had to perch on the edge of the chair, and he felt on edge as he waited for this mysterious visitor.

The door clicked, opening slowly. Johnny's eyes narrowed at Peanut, who clung to the worn suitcase he recognized as his own like it was a life vest. He closed the door gently behind him, taking a few steps into the room.

Peanut stopped, taking in Johnny slowly; the life vest, the slightly battered look, the undone hair. His eyes went as wide as saucers, and he nearly dropped the suitcase. Johnny looked wary, and he regarded Peanut coldly.

Peanut's eyes nervously darted over to the orderly, then back to Johnny. "I brought ya stuff, Johnny. Your comb, an' your jacket." He patted the suitcase softly.

Dan grunted, crossing his thick arms. "Well, if that's it, then put the suitcase down and leave. He's too unstable at the moment to entertain visitors."

"Wait!" Peanut said, much too loud, his face burning red. He started to dig through his pockets, gently setting the suitcase down on the floor. Dave's eyes narrowed, and he closed the distance between them. Peanut nervously kept searching. "I… I got…"

"What?" The orderly said forcefully. Johnny watched the two blankly. "I don't got all…" His voice trailed off as Peanut pulled out a wad of cash. "Day…"

"Here," Peanut thrust the crumpled money into the orderly's hand. The orderly grinned, smoothing out the bills and thumbing through them. "That should be enough to give us some time to talk," he looked over at Johnny, who was watching curiously, "And for you to unlatch him 'n stuff, right?"

"Plenty." The orderly said, flicking through the money one more time. He walked over to Johnny, slipping the bills into his pocket. With a few deft clicks, the binds on his suit loosened. Dan gave a small tug to the ties, and the tension fell from his arms. Johnny immediately jerked away, setting his arms free and rubbing his shoulders. He glared at the orderly, who gave him a sour look in reply.

"I can only give you two a few minutes- ten, about." He said flatly, turning for the door. "And, don't try anything funny. There are cameras, we can see you." Peanut nodded, and the orderly pushed through the door. It clicked close behind him, and the sounds of his footsteps echoed outside.

The silence was stifling, and Peanut shifted uncomfortably. "So…" He ventured, and when Johnny didn't do anything save for staring blearily at the small camera in the corner of the room, he continued talking. "How are ya?"

"Fine…" Johnny grumbled. "Just hopped up on meds right now, and I'm in a straight jacket. Just super."

Peanut winced, approaching Johnny. There was no other place to sit, so he did the only other thing he could think of; he sat on the floor, legs crossed and his elbows on his knees. Peanut leaned back, grabbing the worn suitcase and dragging it forward. The buckle came undone easily in his hands, and he pried it open. Johnny could spot his comb, tucked in between some nondescript pants and shirts that would go under the scratchy asylum uniforms.

"I got all of your things… your favorite shirt, and stuff." He mumbled quietly, his eyes nervously drifting over to Johnny. He was struggling to focus. "And your comb."

"Why are you here?" He asked bluntly, very quiet.

Peanut gave him a sad face. "I care." It was that simple. Johnny fidgeted in the chair. He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"Why would you come back, after all of this?" He murmured quietly, not realizing he said it aloud. Peanut sighed, pushing the suitcase forward.

"I told you," he took out Johnny's comb, standing, "I care. That's it." He walked behind Johnny, who just stared darkly at the suitcase, ignoring Peanut carefully running the comb through his tangled hair. It caught a snag, and he grunted in pain, barely refraining from swatting at Peanut. Peanut sighed, ignoring his protest and continuing to run the comb through.

"What have you heard? I'm getting out soon, right?" Johnny asked quietly. Peanut's hand stilled, and then he continued, still silent. Johnny frowned darkly, trying to reach back and grab the comb. Peanut swatted his knuckles with it, and then resumed. "Hey, would ya stop brushing my hair like a chick and talk?"

"It's messy. You're messin' me up with hair like this. You look like a… a jock or somethin'."

Johnny sat quietly, scowling.

"It just unnerves me, that's all."

Johnny's scowl deepened. "You're avoidin' my question, Larry. When am I getting out?" He twisted around in the chair, staring intently at Peanut. Peanut looked away nervously, focusing on the wall.

"They…" He glanced over at Johnny, his eyebrows furrowing into a v-shape, "They said a month."

Johnny jumped out of the chair so hard it fell to the ground with a clatter. Peanut flinched, the comb dropping from his hand. "A month!" Johnny looked absolutely furious, and he turned away from Peanut, his hands clenched into fists. "I didn't do nothing and they give me a month like some kinda loony!" Peanut opened his mouth to speak, but Johnny had turned back to face him; the fire in his eyes kept Peanut from saying a thing. "How come they're doing this?"

Peanut leaned down, picking the comb back up from the floor. He brushed it off, concentrating wholeheartedly on making sure not a speck of dirt was on it. "Well…" He tentatively looked up at Johnny. "First, the townies have all vouched that you're, uh, violent." He looked down at the floor, not noticing that Johnny was swiftly approaching him. "And then for some reason, Dr. Crabblesnitch decided to agree with them instead of backing you up. He said that, 'After consultin' with the future leader of this Academy, we decided that Vincent is a prime candidate for Happy Volts'…" He trailed off, noticing Johnny's shoes, and he could feel him, standing close; he looked up slowly.

Johnny's eyes were dark. "So, am I stuck here?" He asked, voice still hinting at a slur from the drugs. Peanut's eyes fell to his shoes.

"I'm gonna get you out, I'm gonna-"

Johnny pressed close, gripping the sides of Peanut's arms and shaking him. "AmI stuck here?!"

Peanut faltered, hesitantly spitting out the truth. "Yeah. Yeah, you are."

Johnny's face fell, blinking quickly; maybe he shouldn't have asked for the truth. His hands dropped from Peanut's arms. "Fuck. That ain't good, Larry." He mumbled quietly, running a hand through his hair.

Peanut sighed, looking back up at Johnny's face. He knew that his best friend was never a very stable person to begin with; paranoid and obsessive, blind and too trusting, violent and aggressive. He couldn't stay in here. Places like Happy Volts broke men. Tentatively, he reached out, placing a shoulder on Johnny's shoulder. His eyes snapped to Peanut's, focused, and Peanut could see the uneasiness there; maybe he knows it, too.

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to get you out."

* * *

**4 days after**

"You got a smoke?"

The patient gave him a maniacal grin, flashing a mouthful of teeth. "Smoke? Ha, we're not supposed to smoke here." He took a step forward, sending Johnny back a step, not wanting to have the distance between them closed. He could smell his breath even with the space between them. "The watcher will see you if you smoke."

Johnny frowned, "Uh, alright, thanks-" He automatically searches out the little tag they place on all of the gowns, finding his name quickly, "Jeffery?" And turned away before the man could say anything else. He didn't need another crazed person babbling about 'the watcher' when it was just some stupid statue that could burn and crack and crumble like any other inanimate object. There wasn't anything special about it.

Except the way he swore its eyes were following him. But other then that, there was nothing wrong with the Watcher.

The statue.

Johnny frowned. That's all it was, a statue.

God, he was out of it. He needed a smoke. Or maybe he just needed a decent person to talk to, not somebody that babbled and drooled on themselves. The lack of sanity was starting to get to him. There was nobody to hold a conversation with except himself, and in the loony bin, that was usually frowned upon if you were still protesting that you were sane.

Which Johnny _was_. But he was getting irritated by all of the other crazies in here. At least he didn't have to stay inside, locked up in his room like some of the others. He was allowed to wander outside, though that wasn't much fun either. But it was better then staying in the room. He passed by those inmates when that Dan guy shuffled him out along with the others outside. They were the crazy ones. Stuck in a small cage with just themselves and their problems as their companions.

He never heard someone scream like that before then.

Johnny liked to think of himself as fearless, but passing by those doors, their eyes so dark and empty, scared him. He wondered how long they had been there.

Had they been there a month? Or less?

Johnny shook his head, running a hand through his hair. It didn't matter. Peanut had said he'd get him out soon. He promised. If there was anything he could believe steadfast in, was that Peanut Romano stuck by his promises, and he knew he was going to get him out.

Johnny sighed, stopping, his hands shaking slightly. Right now, all he wanted was some nicotine to sooth his nerves. "I can't believe nobody has a smoke around here." He grumbled, pressing his hands against his face, rubbing tiredly.

"Hey," Johnny jumped, looking over towards where the voice was coming from. There was a form, in the shadows of the small building where the orderlies took their brakes. "C'mere, kid."

Johnny hesitantly walked towards the shape. "Yeah? What do you want?"

"Need a cig?" The voice is familiar, but Johnny couldn't see the face through the thick bangs that fall over the man's face and the way he's standing in the shade. The man hitched up his gown, showing off a pair of raggedy pants underneath, and fished out a carton, flipping it open and offering it to Johnny.

Johnny looked down at it, then back up at the man, taking one. "Thanks." He looked it over; Marlboro, one hundred percent tobacco and cancer, too. At least this crazy knew what to smoke. "You got a light?"

The guy grinned, "Light?" His voice was odd, slightly higher, "You mean, as in, _fire_?" The way is voice crawled around, slightly sluggish, made Johnny really doubt he found a normal guy out of the bunch. "Fire… nah, I don't got any fire." The word rolled off his lips, and he continued to grin, though it had turned from careless to lecherous. "They don't let me have fire no more."

"Oh." Johnny said, holding the cigarette in his hand. He smiled weakly, taking a step back. "You know, I'll just be-"

There was a clink and a small burst of fire from the Zippo that seemed to magically appear in the man's hands. He twirled it through his fingers, still lit, and Johnny swore he saw the flame lick his skin but his hand didn't waver. He tossed it in the air, and Johnny took a startled step back. The man caught it deftly, the cap clinking closed, and he calmly flicked the cap open again, lighting it. The flame danced, and Johnny watched, dumbfounded.

"Well," The man said smoothly, shaking his Zippo slightly. "Go ahead. You need a light, don't ya?"

Johnny mumbled a quick thank you, putting the cigarette in his mouth and leaning forward. He shielded the fire from the wind as he tried to his cig to light. "So," Johnny's eyes flickered up, just as his cigarette caught. That face. The light was still dim but he was closer and he knew that face. Johnny pulled back like he had been bitten, nearly dropping his cigarette.

"You! You're that townie, that- Henry!"

Henry grinned, lighting himself a cig, not half as bothered as Johnny. "Huh, yeah. How long have you been in here for?"

Johnny felt his hands shake, anger rising up in him like an ugly snake. "The day after you took me down, you fuckin'-"

"Hey, hey, don't get so damn uppity." Henry growled suddenly, leaning forward, flicking the cap of his Zippo up and down in agitation.

"Why don't you shut up?" Johnny snapped, taking an aggressive step towards him. Henry's nostrils flared, and he pushed himself off the wall, glaring at Johnny. "It's because of you that I'm in here, you dickhead! You just had to be a prick and beat me up for no damn reason!"

Henry closed the distance between them, their chests bumping, and they were at the exact height. "So?" Henry grunted, holding his cigarette in the side of his mouth. "What you gonna do about it, you damn filthy oil slick?" He barked out a laugh, exhaling smoke in Johnny's face.

Johnny knew what he was going to do. He lunged at Henry, going straight for his neck, hands wrapping around the soft skin, fingers pushing. Henry's fist went into his jaw with a loud crack, and all he did was shout and tighten his grip, pushing down hard against his skin, listening to the panicked wheeze. "Fuck!" Feeling pain wasn't an option at the moment, because the sort of rage that gripped him when he saw someone with Lola was the same hateful poison that wrenched through him now.

"I'll fucking kill you, you townie!" The yell ripped right through him, and he struggled against the orderlies. He had to teach that god damn townie a lesson- that he can't just take him away from Lola, from Peanut, from all his friends without any repercussions, and mother fuck was he going to _kill _him.

"Settle down, boyo." Dan growled, his thick arm coming up and around Johnny's neck, pulling back. Johnny coughed, his airway being cut off quite suddenly. "You need to settle _down_." The man's harsh breath was coarse in his ear and Johnny grunted, using his last bit of breath, hands struggling at the orderlies arm.

"Get-" He couldn't breath, and his clutch on Dan's arm turned into scrabbling, frantic movements. The orderly only squeezed tighter, and it was only with his vision swimming, eyes watering heavily that he noticed the slim needle held in his other hand, raised high.

"Pleasant dreams, there," Johnny's fingernails bit into the man's flesh but he didn't seem to care, the needle slamming down. It didn't take long- Johnny's exhausted body and mind gave to the drugs, body slumping as his eyes fluttered, struggled, then shut.

* * *

**Five Days After**

Peanut hadn't told anyone else yet about what had happened to Johnny. It was one of those things that was best kept to yourself, especially when almost all of the cliques were starting to get restless because of the warm summer months. The heat was _stifling_, school was almost over, and the restless energy to just finally be free seemed to be getting to everyone. (It also didn't help that Jimmy Hopkins had fallen from grace recently, but a thought like that didn't occur to Peanut. Only one man was king in his eyes.) The preps had been extremely hostile as of late, and if they heard of Johnny's disappearance, there would be one hell of a rumble. Derby had been extremely hostile as of late

Though he knew none of the greasers would let it out that Johnny had been locked up- more than likely, they would help break him out- but Peanut felt uneasy every time he meant to bring it up to Norton, who had appointed himself as unofficial head until Johnny returned from wherever he went to. The thought of telling everyone that their great leader was stuck in a place full of frothing crazies was just sickening. Peanut knew Johnny was a good leader, but some of the other greasers had their doubts.

Everyone had their doubts. It was the heat. The heat was driving everyone crazy.

Peanut moved his feet slowly, pedaling the bike across the small bridge that ran to Blue Skies. He hadn't noticed the Townies until he was across and halfway down the potholed road.

"Hey, Greaser!" One of them yelled. Peanut squeezed the brakes, his bike jolting to a stop. He looked over, frowning and leaning on one foot.

"Yeah?" He answered stiffly, tilting his head to the side. (Normally, Peanut would have ignored them, but without Johnny around he almost felt the need to pick up the tough guy act and defend the clique. He had to answer to the call.)

One of the townies walked over- it was Jerry, and Omar, if he wasn't mistaken. Jerry had this shit-eating grin on his face as he approached him; Omar still stood on the sidewalk corner, glaring over at Peanut, and giving an equally dirty look to Jerry. "How ya doing, Greaser? How's your man doing?"

"My man?" Peanut felt his throat tighten.

Jerry grinned. "Johnny?"

He scowled darkly, looking away from Jerry. "I'm out of here. Ya no good bunch of damn Townies- fucking drop-outs, I don't have time for this shit." He could feel his fingers shaking as his foot moved to the pedal of his bike; he was unusually angry about all of this, and he didn't even know why the Townie affected him so. "Fuck this-" Jerry suddenly lurched forward, grabbing the collar of Peanut's jacket. Peanut yelled out, his bike tipping over from the sudden tug, and as he fell he grabbed Jerry, pulling him down with him to the hard ground, the bike clattering over. There was a small scuffle, hands and feet and curses before they finally untangled, jumping up from the ground, the fallen bike lying in between them. Peanut's shoulders were hunched, fists clenched. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Jerry frowned, brushing himself off. "Jesus, you fell over like a damn girl- just like Johnny."

Peanut grabbed his bike, righting it. Why was this making him so mad? He glanced up at Omar. He couldn't take them both; he wasn't really in the mood to come back with a black eye. He turned around, starting to wheel his bike off. "Fuck you- fuck you two."

"Johnny is a little bitch, you know that, right? That's why he's in that place- that place for loons, 'cause that's what he is, the King of the fucking crazies!"

Peanut's body stiffened. Now he knew- fuck, how did they know Johnny was locked up? Nobody knew- unless.

Peanut twisted around, his feet still firmly planted on the ground. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck prick up, a million tiny needles poking into his skin. The bottom of his stomach fell through, and he turned around fully, running as fast as possible. The townies noticed the heavy footfalls before he was upon them, and Jerry turned to gawk at Peanut, but it was too late; his speed and body weight was all behind the punch, and he hit Jerry right in the face. He made an awkward squawking noise as he fell, and Omar quickly tackled Peanut over before he could follow up his punch with a kick.

He landed heavily, Omar's weight and the hard concrete jarring his body. There was something sharp under his head, but Peanut ignored it as he narrowly dodged Omar's punch, jerking his head away so sharply he could feel his neck crack. He twisted away from another punch, and Omar cursed as his knuckles hit the hard concrete underneath his head. His knuckles turned bright red, blood seeping from the wounds as he clutched his hand. "_Fuck!_"

Peanut pushed Omar off, scrambling from underneath the larger boy's body. There was suddenly a sharp pain in the back of his head, and he reached back, touching something warm and sticky. The pain… he had cut his head. He gritted his teeth, wincing.

"What the _hell_ do you want, greaser?" Omar snapped, staggering to his feet. He brusquely wiped his bleeding hand against his shirt, glaring knives at Peanut. "I thought you were leaving, tail tucked between your legs?"

"I don't want nothin' from you!" Peanut snapped, hands curling into fists, and he jerks his head over to Jerry, who's just now managing to stumble to his feet. His nose is pouring out stick red blood that he can barely hold back. "It's all his fault that Johnny's away, and I swear, I'm gonna-"

"Away?" The townie interrupts before Peanut can finish, confused. "We…" He paused, grinning, "Oh. _Oh_, you mean Happy Volts."

"Fucking hell I mean Happy Volts!" Peanut snarled, taking a step toward Omar. He was at least a head taller but Peanut wasn't in the mood for rational thought at the moment. "How could you do that to someone? Happy Volts! You know what they do to people in there-"

"Shut up!" Jerry yelled, his voice a tinge nasally as he clutches awkwardly at his bloodied nose, face red with anger. "What the hell do we owe to you Prep-School bastards? Nothing! God damnit, you think you're tough- 'Look at us, we own cars, we wear leather jackets, we're so hardcore and tough!' That's not tough. You pay at least ten thousand a year to go to that fuckin' school! You've all got grandparents that love you enough to send you money to waste on a shitty education, or maybe it's money your parents got to steal or, fuck, maybe one of you wrench monkeys managed a scholarship or some shit- but us? We've got nothing, no hope- we're just plain public school kids, or drop-outs who just couldn't fuckin' take that shithole of a school, and when Gary told us that we needed to get Johnny out of the way to bring you assholes down, so fuck him, we got him out of the way!"

"What?" Peanut's eyes narrowed. Gary? That creepy psycho who sold off a few prescription drugs near the beginning of the school year? What was he doing ordering the townies around? "What does Smith have to do with all of this?"

Omar shot a glare over at Jerry, then looked over at Peanut, frowning. "You jostled the brains out of him with that punch, greaser. He doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. Why don't I give you a free pass to get the hell out of here, and I won't beat your ass?"

Peanut rubbed at his arm. "Ya know, I'm getting to the fucking bottom of this, you public school drop-out rats." He snapped, glaring. "I swear to fucking God, if anythin' happens to Johnny- you're gonna pay for it. You're gonna pay."

Omar rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Like he's gonna get any fuckin' crazier."

Peanut's shoulders rose, his whole face contorting with rage. "You fuck-"

"Get the fuck outta here, greaser!" He shouted suddenly, pointing off away from Blue Skies. "We can beat the shit outta your skinny ass, alright? Now scram!"

Peanut glared, his hands shoved into his pockets. Omar glared right back, and they were locked in a death stare for a few long, tense seconds- Peanut suddenly turned away, scowling, and spit on the ground, shaking his head. "Fine." His voice was harsh, strained. "Fine. Fuck you two." He was on his wit's end because of this whole Happy Volts business,

* * *

**Ten days after**

It was the early mornings, when the medicine from last night had been worn out, and the orderlies were eating their breakfast before the morning round, that Johnny could think clearly. He didn't know the exact time; time was warped in this hellhole, and it never really passed in any way that made sense. It was just day- and then it was night. That was it. There was no in between. He could only understand the concept of _early morning,_ when Dan came in smelling of coffee and powdered donut in his beard, and _everything else,_ after the medicine set in. (Johnny remembered normal breakfasts, the times at school when he and Peanut would throw runny eggs into preppies' hair.)

He fidgeted, restless in his bed. Johnny sat up, turning around and looking at the space above his pillow. How many dashes were carved there? He ran a light finger over it, his lips moving slowly as he counted.

Ten. Dix. Diaz. Ten whole fucking days.

It felt like forever.

He sat up suddenly, rubbing at his eyes. But that didn't matter. He was sane. And a few weeks- no, no, he had only been here a few days, so it was a few days ago- Peanut had told him he would get him out.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Hadn't Peanut said he'd get him out soon? He couldn't really remember. Everything was muddled, snatches of memories that he didn't recognize as happening recently.

Then again, who was he to analyze time? Fuck. Fuck time. Peanut knew what he was doing. Peanut was his best friend, he could get him out, if anybody could, Peanut could. Johnny closed his eyes, leaning forward tiredly. He cared. He hadn't heard a peep from Lola Lombardi, of course not, that beautiful whore, but he had heard from the friend he shouted and screamed at the very next day.

Fuck Larry for making everything so damn complicated. Why couldn't he be like any other person and abandon him? Wasn't that what normal people do?

Johnny slid out of bed, his head immediately starting to pound. He pressed a hand to his temple, body aching, heart fluttering in his chest. Even his body knew when the medicine was supposed to come, and his eyes were on the door before it even opened. A sick feeling curled low in his belly at the sight of the needle in the orderly's hands.

"Mornin', Jimmy-"

"Johnny."

Dan rolled his eyes. "Alright, sure. Ready for your medicine?" The man obviously didn't care whatever the answer, because he stalked towards Johnny with the needle raised slightly, ready to plunge it into him if a scuffle started.

Surprisingly, Johnny held his arm out wearily, a thin smile on his face. "Go ahead."

The grip on his arm was like iron, holding him still. Johnny didn't even realize he was shaking that bad. "Already given up, kid? You tried to clock me out the other day before your meds."

Johnny's eyes snapped closed, and he let out his breath in a tight hiss as the needle punctured his skin. "Haven't given up, yet-" Fuck, this was strong. He felt his mind throb, drugs rushing through his bloodstream, painful and exhilarating and his face was melting clean off, it felt like, oh- "Larry's gonna save me, fuck. Fuck, Larry's gonna… gonna save me."

The needle slipped from his skin, empty, and Johnny opened his eyes. Dan had five eyes. When had he grown five eyes? "Well, good luck with that, kid. Have a nice day."

Johnny shook his head slowly, trying to clear his vision, fighting the medicine. "Larry's coming, he's gonna save me." Dan chuckled, shutting the door behind him as he left. The quiet sound made Johnny jump, and he ran a hand over his face, feeling sweat bead on his forehead, breath going shallow. Why had it gotten so dark all of a sudden? He stumbled backward, chest clenching, swallowing thick gulps of air that still wasn't enough, still wasn't enough and his heart was going to burst-

"Hello there, Vincent." A voice purred smoothly in his ear, rendering Johnny boneless. He sunk to his knees slowly, unable to look back, not really wanting to see what sorts of demons this medicine was stirring up, especially because that voice was so gratingly familiar. "I thought I'd drop by. Oh, your place seems really cozy- better than that dump of a place in New Coventry, I bet."

Johnny curled his hands over his head, running his fingers through his hair, clutching tightly. "Fuck. Fuck. Go away- Larry… Larry's going to save me-"

"About that." His voice slunk on smoothly, like always; he was always such a god damn smooth talker, fake British accent and all. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, breath ragged. Why wasn't he going away? This thing was just from his tormented medicine, given life by the medicine, it wasn't real- "How do you expect someone named Peanut to break you out of a heavily guarded asylum, hmm? I do believe you're dense, but I didn't realize your mental shortcomings were that bad."

"Shut up, you fucking prep-"

He laughed in his ear, hot breath sending shudders through Johnny. "Sorry, Vincent. I think I'm going to be sticking around a while."

* * *

I took some artistic license... also, this wasn't beta'd. Just kinda throwing this out there. Please leave reviews/ PM me if you spot any mistakes, or you don't like the way anything is going story-wise. I do listen to what you guys suggest!


	7. Gone

He's a smoldering candle, the embers gasping for their last breath, trying to relight back into the brilliant blaze it once was. It's depressing, how his eyes vainly try to focus on something, but the drugs and the dull nondescript walls are against him. He slips out of focus, eyes glazing over and a sigh escaping his lips, tired of trying when there's nothing to really gain. He's given in to the medication, and his eyes fall close as his head lolls back, against the wall, the padding muffling the thump of his skull.

The orderly nudges Peanut in the shoulder, and his eyes snap away from the sight in between the bars. His glare is hard and all business, though they've done this so many times before, and Peanut reaches all too easily into his light pocket, pulling out the money and pressing it into the man's greasy hand. He smiles, utters a quick, "Thank'ee." And unlocks the door to Johnny's room. The whining sound the hinges make snap Johnny into focus, and his head falls forward, chin resting against his chest, eyes landing on Peanut. A small, weary smile crawls sluggishly across his face, and Peanut matches it, closing the door behind him gently. The orderly locks it behind Peanut, leaving them to their business-they didn't have long. Peanut checks twice that the orderly has left before walking forward. Johnny staggers uneasily to his feet, careful not to totter over, his hands bound by the jacket making it difficult. He stumbles, letting out a hoarse laugh. (Did they really need to add insult to injury, tying up a man who is so far gone that he can no longer think properly?) He sounds as sick as he looks; but there's no need for words right now. Peanut quickly wraps his arms around Johnny, and even though he's wearing a straight jacket, he participates as much as he can in the body-crushing hug. He meekly nuzzles into his neck, and Peanut flushes, imagining Johnny's arms wrapped around him. It's a nice thought. He missed Johnny's rough hugs, the slaps of his hand against his back, the arm around his shoulders as they fooled around, just two good friends.

He pulls away, slowly, hand trailing on Johnny's shoulder so that he wouldn't teeter over from the sudden lack of support. Peanut's hand travels down his arm, and he lightly pinches the rough fabric of Johnny's straitjacket, a frown creasing his features. It seems like that's all he does nowadays- frown and worry. It's hard not too, with time, finances, and his health all running out at once. Johnny's face isn't that far away from his and he can smell something bitter wafting off of it, some sort of drug they've shoved down his throat. "Why are they making you wear this?" He asks, quietly, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

Johnny's face twists into guilty pleasure, a kid caught with cookie crumbs down the front of his shirt who's too pleased with the chocolate chips to care about the sore bottom he's going to receive. "You know that… that Henry bitch that put me here?" his voice rattles, and Peanut looks up, confused, "Guess he's a pyro. Guess he got caught. Guess I…. I beat the shit out of him."

"What?!" Peanut shouts. Johnny flinches, taking a small step back. The anger reminds him of the night, when most of the orderlies are gone and he can hear everyone else's screams; he can hear his own screams, though sometimes he's not sure when he's shouting and when he's not. It's haunting, something he'll always remember, like the time he and Peanut got into that tiny skirmish at the bar.

"You know if you don't act well, they're gonna think you're crazy, Johnny, and I'm getting you out soon, promise-"

"Why did we fight?" He interjects suddenly, his eyes wide in confusion. Peanut frowns, eyes scrunching, almost as if he's trying to see if he's being honest. Johnny's face falls; it's so pitiful, that he can't remember what happened barely a week ago, just only a century ago. His eyes narrow as he seriously ponders it. "At the bar. You… we… I don't remember." He looks shocked, numbed even by the startling fact. _I don't remember_. How long until other things start to remove themselves from his memory? Would he forget Lola? Peanut?

"It… it was over Lola." Peanut says softly. Johnny doesn't ask any more questions. They fall silent, and the only noise is Johnny's harsh breathing, sharp sickly inhales that come in so quickly it sounds like he's afraid of asphyxiating. Peanut glances at the ground, his foot pushing against the hard ground, and he glances back up at Johnny.

"I saw Lola last night." Johnny broke the silence, his words soft and sincere. He's looking at the ground, his face red with shame or embarrassment, or maybe both. He doesn't really know his emotions anymore, why certain things happen, but by the way Peanut is just standing there looking at him, he feels the need to explain things. "An' she was standin' there, saying, Johnny Vincent, you're a faggot, an' then her face changed. Melted right off." He's oblivious to Peanut's sudden horrified look, and his eyes are slowly sliding out of focus, glassing over. "Saw Harrington, too, but all he did was laugh. And I asked him, shouldn't you be at some richy-rich mansion right now, not sitting her in Happy Volts Asylum, rottin' 'way with the screaming loonies? And he says… he says…" Johnny blinks, and though Peanut has a chance to end the train wreck, he just stares. "He says, 'You don't understand, Vincent, how things work in that dull mind of your. You're a leader, and you're addicted, like me, but you've been using the wrong kind of drug. You're a _coward_, a buffoon,', and that's when he steps forward, an' he ain't got no eyes, but he keeps talking: 'Time to step up to the big leagues, Vincent! If you ever want to get anywhere, you need the right stuff,"

"Johnny," Peanut's voice is a little desperate. He knows that he's let him ramble too much when his breathing becomes perfectly in tempo. "You were hallucinating." But Johnny doesn't skip a beat. His eyes are shiny, glass like a doll's, and he's lost.

"Stuff of champions, he says. He's got Bif… 'Bif's my poison, absinthe incarnate, because nothing gives me better disillusionment of grandeur then him.' That's what he says, grinning- crazy bastard. He leans even closer, an' he adds in this spooky whisper, 'You've got it all and yet you have nothing,' and he melts down, slips through all the cracks in the floor." He stares at his feet, socked foot sliding across the perfectly smooth floors. Peanut gapes at him, and Johnny looks up at him with haunted eyes, his shoulders hunched slightly. "Find my poison…"

Everything falls silent and awkward because Peanut doesn't know what to say and Johnny is already gone off in another world, falling back into a steady rhythm of breathing. Except now he has taken up rolling back on his heels, seeing how far he can go before he'll lose his balance because of his lack of arms at the moment and come crashing down to the ground. Very slowly, Peanut takes a step towards him, and Johnny doesn't register anything until Peanut has his hands on his shoulders. He barely makes any noise, just a sharp intake of breath, as his grip becomes firm and guides him to the far corner of the room, close to his rickety cot. Johnny's legs are slow, and Peanut has to inch along slowly together so that they don't get tangled up. Johnny flinches when the wall touches his back, but then he leans into the corner, trying to absorb himself into it. Peanut takes a step forward, pressing close so they were out of view of anybody passing by the door as his fingers went to work on the buckles of his straight jacket. His face is determined, cold and focused; until Johnny presses back up against him, placing his chin on Peanut's shoulder.

"I'm getting you out, Johnny," He murmurs, trying to ignore the way Johnny is draped over him and being uncooperative. All of the metal buckles on the straight jacket are shiny and smooth, and his uneasy fingers fumble and slip. Every time his fingers skid off track and over Johnny's belly, Johnny bites his neck like a petulant child. Peanut would have found it erotic if he wasn't close to tears, his hands shaking. Four times already, four visits, and Johnny was still sitting here, letting the drugs take over his mind. It was futile, but he couldn't lose hope, couldn't stop believing in Johnny.

He fumbles again, and Johnny's teeth sink hard into his skin, eliciting a yell of pain. "Johnny! I'm trying to… trying to…" His words die in his throat, the words vibrating under Johnny' lips as he traveled the expanse of his neck with them. Johnny croons softly, kissing and lapping where he had bitten him and drew blood. Peanut grips the front of Johnny's jacket, and God he wishes that the buckles weren't so slippery in his sweaty hands because his knees are shaking, with how Johnny is lavishing his neck like that.

"Stop. I've got to get you… oouttt…" The last word comes out strangled, his eyes fluttering close as Johnny's head slips down, nudges past the collar of his shirt with his nose, and kissing his collarbone. It's much too erotic than it should be, but the fact that he's doing all this at this moment, when anybody could come in and spot them makes him feel dizzy and his heart tighten. Johnny was so mad that he didn't realize that he could be spotted, could be found being gay.

Peanut didn't care at the moment. He suddenly wraps an arm around Johnny, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Johnny growls, pulling fruitlessly at his bonds. He stops after a moment, realizing he has no use of his arms, and he breaks the kiss swiftly, leaving Peanut flushed and a bit confused.

"Put yourself against… against the wall…" Johnny whispers, his voice jittering over the words like a broken tape player. Peanut knows that there's something wrong, that he should be breaking him out, but that hard glare in Johnny's eyes is as strong as the arms that would be around him if it weren't for the straitjacket. Peanut nods, switching places easily with Johnny. Johnny doesn't wait, doesn't care if Peanut is comfortable; he dives in, pressing against his prey with fearful ferocity. Peanut whines under the harsh kisses, gripping Johnny's back, his legs pried open by the knee wedged between them.

It's over as fast as it began. Johnny's tongue pushes into Peanut's, and when they meet and he moans, Johnny pulls away violently, making Peanut's teeth clack noisily together. Johnny backs up slowly, his head lowered but his eyes on Peanut. His breathing's ragged, and Peanut gazes at him curiously, trying to hide the fear.

"Lola?" Johnny croaks, and Peanut's face falls. "You ain't… Lola." He shakes his head in jerky motions, snapping his neck from side to side. "I can't kiss you. Lola would be mad. Lola would be mad. Lola would be mad."

He doesn't stop saying it, even as the orderly walks in briskly without knocking, curtly telling Peanut it's time to leave. Peanut looks over at him, quickly, his mouth forming already into begs and pleas but the orderly cuts him off: "You need to leave," His eyes fall on Johnny, who's still mumbling. "Now."

Peanut hesitates, looking over at Johnny. But he's gone, and there's nothing left in his eyes. Very quietly, he leaves under the firm grip of the orderly's hand, keeping stoically silent until he passes the front gates. Once the fence is behind him and he runs until he's in the small tunnel that leads to Blue Skies, only then does he allow himself to break down into wracking sobs as he sinks down to the ground.

He's lost.

And Johnny's gone.

--

2 years? Geez. That's a long break, huh? Next chapter will have more. I'm writing this again, if only because I should finish what I started. Leave a review or send a message through fanfiction for any complaints/ suggestions/ death threats. Beta would be nice, but you have to send your email through a message, more than likely, because fanfiction automatically blocks email adresses in the reviews, just a little fyi.


End file.
